


No Place for No Hero

by Steelbloom



Series: You Will Leave a Mark [1]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: F/F, F/M, Memory Loss, One-Sided Attraction, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-07-12 08:10:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 39,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7093747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steelbloom/pseuds/Steelbloom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not content to remain in the dark about who she once was is what urges her forward, even as the road gets more complicated the further she travels. But the Mojave was a good teacher and the Courier had many questions and an incurable longing to roam.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. As I Go Ridin' Merrily Along

**Author's Note:**

> Goodsprings was tempting… if the road and the need for answers didn’t call to the Courier so strongly.

“You’re pretty lucky, you know?”

The newly dubbed Six snorted at that and then immediately regretted it, her head feeling like it was broken open once again. The Courier clutched her head and let out a groan, leaning over and trying not to throw up.

Sunny winced and reached out, taking the varmint rifle and pulling the Courier’s inky, loosely braided hair out of the way.

“Well… I still think you’re pretty lucky. Never known anyone to survive what you did and still be able to talk, let alone shoot the way you do...” Sunny focused on the braid in her hand instead of the very loud, desperate way the Courier was breathing. Lifting her hand up, she ran the edge of the braid across her cheek lightly. “Or have hair _this_ soft.”

The Courier couldn’t help the low laugh that escaped her. “Are you hitting on me, Smiles?”

Sunny grins, all innocence. “God no,” and here her nose wrinkles, “there’s no mystery in this relationship anymore.”

Six manages another laugh before Cheyenne scurries out of the way of the puke that soon followed.

 

* * *

  

Six wondered if her mom was still living and breathing out there somewhere, and if she was, whether she was anything like Trudy; a steady voice, strong conviction, a kind heart…

“There’s jalapenos in that,” Sunny warns, smiling around a mouthful of food as Ringo begins gulping water down after biting directly into one of the peppers in Trudy’s gecko kebabs.

She also wonders, taking a careful bite of her dinner,  if her mom cooked anything as good as Trudy did.

The Courier hopes so, on all counts.  And she hopes that if her mom _is_ anything like Trudy, that she’s gotten some of that strength and kindness passed down onto her; that an intuitive part of who she once was still remained buried deep within her. She couldn’t be sure of anything really, but she hoped so.

All of them are covered in leather armor and blood from the shoot out with the Powder Gangers earlier as they sit at the bar, Trudy feeding them for getting rid of the convicts. Goodsprings had been good to her and she had returned the favor as well as she could, helping clean out the school, the geckos near the source, and finally the Powder Gangers that were threatening Ringo and the town. She couldn’t remember who she'd once been, so she'd decided that she would allow her gut to lead… for the most part. Helping here had been an easy decision.

Discovering that she was more than passable at defending herself and others was just an added bonus.

Six carried her weapons with practiced ease, her muscle memory remaining when everything else about her seemed to be lost. Sunny had been right, she realized, when the young town guard had remarked on the accuracy and rapid reload speed she'd displayed that first day after regaining consciousness. She was lucky she wasn't dead and she was lucky she could defend herself. She would need those skills with all the talk of Fiends and Legion between here and New Vegas, where her delivery was due.

But as her stay in Goodsprings reached day three (day six actually, but she didn't count the days she was unconscious) and her memories didn’t return as she was hoping that they would, she became restless. She had an itch building already, shooting and killing those dynamite-happy convicts today giving her the boost in confidence that she needed, believing she should head out on her own.

And Six knew the time had arrived to get on the road again; she was a Courier, she knew that’s where she was destined for. She needed answers and her answers were with a man in a checkered jacket and a few Great Khans that were waiting to be caught up with.

A part of her realized that a good, healthy fear should have _probably_ developed after her near death experience, but she didn't dwell on it much. Those were thoughts best left untouched. She would catch up to them eventually. She was determined and she would get her answers.

When Trudy disappeared into the kitchen with their empty dishes and Sunny headed towards the jukebox with Ringo, Six pulled her screwdriver out of her pocket and returned to the radio behind the bar. There was a pressure building in her head, a bad headache spreading from the entry point of the bullet and throbbing as the adrenaline and excitement from the battle completely left her system, but she wanted to take care of the radio before she headed to Doc Mitchell’s for one more night.

She unscrewed the case methodically, taking out the tweezers and the duct tape she had found earlier and getting to work on the wiring that had been knocked loose inside. Six understood this, must've learned how to tinker with things at some point in her past, the task becoming engrossing enough that the headache she felt started fading into the background.

“You’re pretty handy, huh?”

Six started, not having heard Trudy approaching and attempting not to reach for her temple again in pain.

“Oh honey, I’m sorry, I keep forgetting your brain’s probably still scrambled in there," drying her hands on a towel and putting a cool hand on Six’s forehead, she seemed to know it soothed the wound there. “It's just you don't seem like it, after what I've seen you do..." She hesitated for a bit, her dark eyes studying the young woman in front of her. "You know, we could always use another hand here at the saloon, and Goodsprings could use another gun with the way things are going around these parts. I’ve got a spare room we could put a bed in, here in the back. Full of stuff I need to get rid of anyway, so if you help me clean it out, you can take it until you can save enough maybe take up the house the Bennett's left.”

Six felt herself soften at the invitation, touched by it and the motherly gesture Trudy bestowed on her. Reaching up for the hand on her temple, she thanked the woman sincerely for the offer but declined, letting her know she'd be leaving tomorrow. She understood what a risk it was for Trudy to invite a perfect stranger to live with her; they’d all been witness to the trouble Ringo had inadvertently brought just by hiding out in the town.

She finished screwing the case back on and turned the dial on the now working radio, promising herself fervently that she would come back and see them all again someday.

Maybe when she returned, she’d be able to tell them about a past that still eluded her.

 

* * *

 

“Here, you’re gonna need this.” Sunny places a straw cowboy hat, wide brimmed and with a ring of vents halfway up, on the Courier’s head.

“Thanks, but I plan on traveling after the worst of the day is gone,” Six assures her, nonetheless adjusting the hat on her head. It was mid-afternoon and Six counted on getting to Primm in plenty of time to rent a room and see if the locals had seen anyone fitting the descriptions she had.

“Take care of yourself out there, cowgirl. Protect yourself from the sun, it gets brutal when you’re not near water the way we are here. ‘Sides, you’re going to begin freckling and that’s just unattractive. It’s going to start, I almost see it here,” and Sunny brushed her calloused finger across Six’s cheekbone, over the bridge of her nose before sliding down her other cheek and lingering there. She caught the Courier by surprise once again by turning her head slightly and leaning forward to meet her lips, dropping her hand to rest on Six’s hip.

Six was too surprised to respond but Sunny didn’t seem to hold it against her, her grin returning as she pulled back and saw the redness suffusing Six’s decidedly unfreckled but very tan skin.

“You’ll always find a friendly face here. I’ll see ya around,” and with one last squeeze on her hip, Sunny turned, calling Cheyenne after her as she practically strutted away, her rifle in her hands once again.

Watching her go, the Courier sighed, disappointed that Sunny’s pretty face and her playful and honest disposition weren't enough to have her stay and forget her need to find herself.

Or the men who owed her.


	2. Singing My Song of Loneliness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mojave is lonely and unforgiving and no one helps out of the goodness of their hearts. But the Courier is not no one.

 

Six stared at the broken robot on the counter top and felt a strange sense of kinship as she ran her hand gently over the damage on the eyebot's exterior. Her fingers sank into the dips made by bullet holes on the left side of the bot’s face, near its rusted license plate. "Both of us shot in the head," she murmured, though hers had been on the right side.

She felt a heaviness in her chest, akin to the sorrow she’d felt earlier when she’d found the body of a man near here, dead and alone, with a Mojave Express delivery order on his person. Another Courier, killed, although she couldn’t know who’d done it. With the Powder Gangers she’d just killed outside, maybe it had been them but she couldn’t be certain.

She wondered what this bot’s purpose could have been. What had it existed to do before it had been shot down?

Curiosity won out and she placed her bag next to the robot and began going through its neatly stashed contents. The bag was fit to burst but she knew where everything was. Victor had found the leather satchel with her when he'd dug her out of the grave and she carried it slung over her shoulder now. She had all her meager belongings in the sturdy courier bag: the stimpacks the Doc had given her, some pieces of scrap and wiring, a small pouch with the tools she used to repair her guns and work open locks, a vault suit, spare set of underwear and undershirt, an extra pair of socks, (holey, unfortunately and she didn't have thread on her, she really needed to invest in more), toothpaste, bar soap, a bandana, her bobby pins, some healing powder, a couple of water bottles and gecko kebabs and the ammo and dynamite on top, nearest her reach. She had more ammo in her pockets and some anti-venom in her boot, her knife in the other.

It had taken the Courier almost ten hours to reach the gates of Primm, a trip that should've taken half that time and it was due to the incapacitating headache that began growing the longer she walked. The area around her right eye had been steadily pounding, the pain preventing her from keeping her eye open. The light hurt that side of her face as if she'd been hit with something blunt and heavy. It was similar to the pain of a tire iron to her thigh, the way she'd been struck in Goodsprings a couple of days prior. The bruise it had left behind had been ugly and large.

The bandana in her bag had come in handy. She'd rolled it up and tied it as low over her eyes as she could without completely blinding herself to help block the worst of the light. But by hour two, it was full blown ringing shattering her concentration and she’d been forced to find shelter as quickly as her state would allow.

She hadn’t seen the gecko before it attacked her, causing her to yelp and curse when she felt the strong bite on her calf. She’d quickly put two bullets into its head and shook its sagging body off her leg as she limped away but it had shaken her. Luckily the gecko hadn’t broken skin but it had certainly bruised, the mark reaching out beyond the teeth marks.

She was stuck under that rough patch of shrubbery she dove next to for a few hours, adjusting her position as the sun slowly disappeared. She’d sipped from her canteen slowly and kept an eye out as well as she could under her hat and bandana, 9mm in hand.

When twilight had fully overtaken the sky and she could peer out without the need for her head coverings, she had started walking again, making it to Primm after midnight. Her right eye had still been blurry enough that she almost hadn't seen the NCR flag until a trooper had approached her.

Six smiled in memory as she worked on the eyebot, remembering the way the trooper had looked at her, asking her if she was alright. It had made Six wonder if it was her limp, the severely bloodshot eye from the headache, or the ugly, healing scar on her temple that had prompted the question. She'd seen herself in Doc Mitchell's mirror those mornings she'd woken up with the same pain. The bright blue of her eyes looked frightening surrounded by the lone, reddened eyeball; the Doc had told her that it was her inflamed blood vessels causing her eye to look that way.

But she’d assured the soldier she was fine and instead asked why the entrance to Primm was blocked off. And after the NCR had explained the dire situation in the town to her, Six had spent the next couple of hours hovering within the shadows and taking a good long look at the town from all angles that she could see from her perch on the broken rooftops. When she couldn’t see more than two shadows moving in the distance, she knew she could make it through.

A few hours before dawn, she’d began her way carefully towards the town. Seeing the warning blinking light of mines on the walkway, she approached them, her eye blurring on contact, gravitating like a moth to a flame. But the pain was all background noise at that point, the only side effect remaining was the blurred vision.

She painstakingly disarmed the mines and then made her way across the bridge and crept along the walls of the casino towards the languid convicts standing out in the open. Edging dangerously close to get a clear shot and compensate for her blurry eye, she took careful aim.

The first man she'd killed quickly, the shots hitting weak spots near neck and head without resistance. His back had been to her so she’d caught him by surprise. But the other man was right behind him and he fired his shotgun. The first shot was erratic, probably due to the shock but then he focused directly on her. Six had been forced to dive behind a dumpster to avoid his second shot which broke through the metal of the dumpster above her loudly, frighteningly close to where she’d been a moment ago.

She’d scrambled to her feet and straightened up, aiming at him before he could reload. The shots rang out in the starry sky near the broken roller coaster and brain matter flew in all directions, a tuft of bloody brown hair stuck to a piece of skull landing on the toe of her boot with a sickening splat.

Six had closed her eyes and breathed deeply for a few moments, steeling herself. With a resigned sigh, she’d shaken her boot off, wiping it on the dusty pants of one of the fallen convicts. She made sure to step carefully over the area she was leaving behind and entered the Vicky and Vance Casino with some wariness, her weapon still in her hand, unsure of the situation within.

Fortunately, the convicts had not taken the casino. It had remained under control of Johnson Nash, proprietor of the Vicky and Vance and supervisor of the Mojave Express Courier Service. Six had been surprised when she heard this, not knowing she’d been talking to her boss before becoming a little dismayed. Nothing about the town rang any bells whatsoever even though she knew this is where she’d had to come at some point to get the job in the first place...

The body of the dead courier she’d found outside the casino hadn’t looked familiar either.

But she brushed all that aside while she sat on a stool here in the Nash office-cum-residence, using her pip boy as a tester on the eyebot. Wires were hooked up to the bot in front of her, checking for shortages in the connections and running other diagnostics.  

"It's yours if you can get it working," Nash offered, shrugging. He was quick to wash his hands of it, she noticed. He said he didn’t know anything about it. Kind of like they way he didn’t know anything about her.

As Six studied the robot, mentally listing the components she would need to scavenge a part of her wondered if the bot’s memory would be intact if she got it working again.  Did it have a chance of coming out of this better than she had?

She knew she needed to try.

 

* * *

 

Johnson Nash had woefully few answers for her. He told her of the bad situation Primm was caught up in, and unfortunately the man who might actually have some information had gotten himself kidnapped.

But freeing Beagle also meant moving the town towards replacing the sheriff they sorely needed, which Six agreed was a good idea as he convinced her to help. In return, maybe Beagle had a lead for her.

Nash handed her a duster and a hat as Six checked her weapons and holstered them, leaving behind her bag with the majority of her belongings.

“It was the old sheriff's. You should use them.”

Six hesitated, unsure but he insisted. She finally took the duster, shrugging it on and testing its length. It was too long, of course but she didn’t step on it as she walked which was a plus. She reached into her bag and pocketed the mines in the duster’s pockets, grateful for the extra carrying space. She refused the hat however, choosing to keep the one she had.

“Lucky hat,” she explained with a smile, her eyes finally back to their normal hue.

When she was ready, she cocked her handgun and slowly walked to the Bison Steve Hotel.

Six used everything she had to her advantage; she stole in just as dawn was breaking, while it was still dark and when they were all more likely to be tired and unfocused. She stepped in carefully, remaining crouched and taking her time to hide behind a counter near the front door, keeping in the shadows with her gun pointed. If they purposely kept it dark inside, she would definitely use it in her favor.

It took five minutes of slowing her breathing and keeping a careful eye on the door to the hall in front of her to get an idea of how many there were. She counted three near her, one having sat down in a chair right in her line of sight while the other two patrolled the room beyond at intervals, stopping in her line of sight separately and almost always at the same number of steps from each other.

Scooting back a little Six pulled out her varmint rifle, leaving her handgun on the bottom shelf of the counter in easy reach. Leaning forward again, she held her breath and aimed carefully, waiting until she counted twenty steps of the convict leaving before pulling the trigger. The sneak attack on the seated man killed him instantly, piercing him at a vital point on his neck.

She heard footsteps approaching quickly and another set following seconds after as she aimed one more time and shot again, this time at the second man as he came within sight. He’d run up to the first one she killed, confused and finding out rather painfully where the shots were coming from. His body was pushed back from the impact of the round hitting his chest but that shot wasn’t enough to knock him down. Her next shot was, though, hitting him in the chest again and rupturing something because he fell down with a gurgling sound.

The third man was more prepared and had his gun out but she had already left her hiding spot, reaching him as he rounded the corner, her 9mm in hand now. The shot was quick and direct, right under his chin on his neck and through his head. Six caught him as he fell, trying not to collapse under his weight as she lowered his body down, not able to get out of the way quick enough.

She scampered into a darkened doorway ahead, trying to control her breathing as she glanced around quickly, finding nothing moving and relaxing a fraction as she focused on the area outside, waiting for sounds of others. She kept her ears sharp but didn’t hear much, just some distant murmuring but she couldn’t be sure. It might be that these three had been the watch and the others were asleep.

She was in a shop of some sort, she finally realized. There was a cash register in front of her in the darkness. Taking a final breath, Six peeked out and seeing no one, slowly sneaked out.

She approached an empty lobby with a few triangles of light near the three other doorways; a closed door on the left wall, open double doors ahead leading to another wall, and what looked like an elevator to her right.

Not trusting the areas near any of the lights, she armed and scattered the mines in the main lobby. Kicking a metal trashcan to get their attention when she was in position, hidden in the shop doorway she waited patiently. She heard scrambling and some alarmed voices before she saw the two that took the bait, running out before a mine took one out completely and Six shot what remained of the other one down.

Then one with an incinerator came out and she panicked momentarily. When he didn’t get close enough to a mine to set it off, she shot at the incinerator once, wondering if it would puncture through. It didn’t and she had to duck out of the way, the fire close enough that she cried out in pain as she slammed herself back against the wall, both in cover and to stamp out any remaining flames on her.

When she heard the flamer’s engine charge down, she peeked around the door again and saw that he was almost close enough to one of the mines. With a held breath, she took a quick shot, hoping her aim would be good enough...

Then promptly ducked back behind the doorway as she heard the blast, his body and the incinerator flying past her to land against the wall outside the shop with a loud thump and louder clanging.

When only silence followed, Six couldn’t help the grin of triumph that lit up her features as she took in her handiwork.

After gleefully collecting ammo and explosives from the bodies in the lobby, she found Beagle in the back, his inventory spread out around him, looking scared but unhurt. She untied him and completely ignored his self-serving spiel as he followed her out into the early morning sun, running his mouth on his heroics as adrenaline continued running through her.

It was going to be another scorcher, she mused, it was apparent this early already.

She interrupted him mid brag, tapping him on the head with the plastic of the holotape she found on the floor next to the gun and ammo that had been removed from him. “Are these your night watch notes?” She pulled the holotape away when he reached for it, ignoring his sputtering protest.

“Those are my records, you don’t go stealing from a Deputy like that.” He looked reproachful.

“I helped Primm get a new sheriff, you putz. Congratulations, you've been promoted. This is my finder’s fee.” And with that, she clapped him on the back and turned to head back to Nash’s to retrieve her belongings and to look for an abandoned bed somewhere. “I’m not giving the duster up, either,” she added over her shoulder.

She left a bewildered deputy behind, grumbling under his breath. "But surely _I_ can't be sheriff... I never signed up for this."

 

* * *

  

It was a few days later, in Novac, that Six finally found the last of the components she needed. A traveling merchant carried the sensor module she was missing, coming through on his way from REPCONN Test Site. She traded him some gecko hides for it, fitting it under her arm as she lugged it to her room in the Dino Dee-Lite Motel she had rented early that morning.

She had slept through the majority of the day once again, getting up in the afternoon after arriving with a few hours left before sunset. She got used to travelling late in the day, stopping to rest in the hours before dawn since she’d left Goodsprings. It worked best for her recovery and her health was steadily improving; no headaches had plagued her since she’d left Primm.

The first thing she headed to do after dropping off her find was to check for any info on missing persons but there was nothing on the board at the hotel. There was nothing about anything recent, she realized. Nothing in the information section was relevant anymore. It was just old faded posters of the things that used to be, nostalgia never removed or replaced with anything new. With a frown, Six left the motel.

The second was to question Victor suspiciously when she found him skulking outside the reception office, his cowboy persona not sitting well with her no matter how much she reminded herself of his role in her current state of living. He made her nervous and she knew it was because she didn’t know who was behind his presence. It gave her the willies that someone was watching her and didn’t want to show themselves.

Her final task was speaking to Manny Vargas once she’d sussed out that he might know more about her targets. She knew he was supposed to be on duty before sunset, having met the other sniper the night before; a frowning, tight-lipped man named Craig Boone.

She figured after having met Boone that she’d have to mosey on outta this town soon. There was bad blood here and her new acquaintance from last night had asked her to wade right in the middle of it.

_‘My wife’s dead. I want the son of a bitch who sold her.’_

And she, of course, couldn’t leave well enough alone.

She sighed silently, stopping outside the entrance to the dinosaur and the gift shop, gazing out onto the disappearing light of the sunset in thought once again. She wondered what had prompted her to say she would help a stranger commit cold-blooded murder; even if it was in the name of revenge.

But something about the pain that held Craig Boone so tightly-coiled resonated in her; the closure this man needed appealed to her on a very deep level.

Boone was on his way up for his shift as she left the dinosaur and as she brushed past him, his gaze purposely anywhere but her, lips set in a grim line and his head bare, she made her decision. The red beret was burning a hole in her pocket.

She hoped that if someone loved her out there, the way Craig Boone loved his late wife, that they would be as determined as he was and that they’d find her. Or at least, find the ones responsible for what had happened to her.

Come hell or high water.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a chunk of this attached to the first chapter but decided to separate it into it's own section.  
> Please let me know if it reads well or if it gets too confusing at parts. Comments are welcome.


	3. Maybe You’re Cold but You’re So Warm Inside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Courier makes new friends and with them comes the promise of new enemies.

Six understood the need for vengeance. She dreamt of it on occasion, her dreams full of violence; frantic and furious, the need to hurt someone a focal point. Even though she couldn’t recall the specifics by the time she jerked awake, alone and tense, she knew they all involved the man who had shot her and left her for dead. In them, she was able to fight for her life instead of being tied up and at his mercy and they were always urgent, as if she was fighting against a timer she couldn’t see. Like a bomb would go off at any given moment if she didn’t get to him first.

A cold, almost numbing anger overtook her when she thought of him. And although Six wasn’t entirely sure what she would do when they faced each other again, she knew she would catch up to him. The longer she was out in the Mojave with no other memories but the ones she was currently building, the colder she became.

And now, sitting in the darkness of the motel room with the curtains drawn, the only light in the room green and weak coming from the terminal she sat in front of… Now, she finally had a name to the face that haunted her. _Benny._

Six stared at the five letters spelled out on the screen, reading the name silently again and again, her lips forming those two syllables like a mantra. The name was burned into her retinas from her staring. _Benny... Benny. Benny._

But the name itself meant _nothing_. He was no one, her mind not able to recall anything no matter how many times she read it. She found a name and a new location on the terminal but not much else.

She rubbed a hand over her face, letting out a frustrated sigh. Shutting off Manny Vargas’ terminal, she stood up and peeked out through the drawn curtains. Manny would be back from dinner soon, she knew.

She had eventually talked to Manny, but her mind had still been on the other sniper. Even though she was supposed to be focusing on her targets, Six probed about Carla gently, worrying the subject like a hot tooth. Manny couldn’t talk about Carla easily, agitation coming off of him in waves, something she was hoping to avoid.

In the end, she got nothing useful out of him except that he needed a favor before he told her anything about her man in the checkered suit. Six had rolled her eyes, promising she'd think about it as she walked away, thinking of other ways to get what she needed.

Not seeing him or anyone else approaching this side of the motel presently, she still looked both ways before she slipped out of the room. Her current method was not popular and she’d rather not get caught while she was snooping.

Annoyed with the lack of progress in her own situation, Six decided to instead focus on the other problem on her mind, her eyes traveling to the dinosaur’s head of their own accord.

Tonight was as good a night as any for revenge.

 

* * *

 

When Six found the bill of sale in the motel safe, she wasn’t surprised; not really. Thoroughly disgusted was a more appropriate description, the horrifying truth of what had happened to Boone’s wife and their unborn child held in a slip of paper in her hands. She wasn’t aware Boone and Carla had almost become parents before Jeannie May Crawford had taken that away from them.

She saw red after reading it, her fists clenching.

Six threw open the door of the woman’s home, the doorknob crashing into the wall as she barreled in, reaching out to rouse the older woman but Jeannie May was already awake, scared and wide-eyed, trembling slightly from the shock. Her own body shaking with tightly controlled rage, Six convinced her to quietly follow her out into the night. And god only knew why Jeannie May followed so obediently. Maybe she saw the potential bodily harm that Six would unleash if she were denied. The Courier honestly didn’t care enough to know.

She walked resolutely towards the dinosaur, Jeannie May shuffling along behind, keeping pace but complaining about the hour and her lack of manners under her breath. She never complained directly to the Courier, however. Jeannie May was not one for confrontation.

_The despicable coward_ , Six thought darkly.  

Despite her fury, Six slowed as she neared the vantage point. Knowing Boone’s glare was burning a hole into the back of her head from the mouth of the dinosaur as she hesitated, she stared at the crescent moon where it hung low in the clear night sky.

She heard Jeannie May slowing behind her, a small sneeze escaping her as the cold breeze blew past them and caught at the bottom of her nightgown. She seemed so small and pathetic standing there in the shadow of the fake dinosaur, Six mused, studying the woman over her shoulder out of the corner of her eye. Her mind was small, she couldn’t even think outside the confines of this small stop on the highway. She seemed the type that never left Novac for more than a day on the Strip, her fear of the city sizable if her conversations from earlier were anything to go by. She probably feared the prostitutes and the gambling more than the filthy slavers she had allied herself to, Six realized.

She also thought of the state of Carla’s health when she was sold into slavery, how her pregnancy had been part of the bargain.

And Six felt a taste of the awful bitterness that probably choked Boone on a daily basis.

The night was clear and beautiful as Six turned to face Jeannie May and pulled the crimson beret over onto her dark braid, sealing all their fates. She felt a small sense of pride when she merely blinked as the woman’s head was shot clean off, blood and other matter hitting her dead on. She was getting better at not flinching when a head exploded in her vicinity.

Having nothing to clean up with, she turned towards the gift shop and climbed up to the sniper’s nest to complete this messy ordeal and hopefully wash up before she had to leave town. When Boone turned to her, the question in his eyes, Six handed over the evidence wordlessly.

Boone read the sheet of paper with a frown, hate etched into his features as Six watched. She studied him closely, noticing the light, almost blond fuzz that was growing on his head where he hadn’t shaved it yet. She pulled off the beret, ready to hand it over but she was rooted, wondering at her motives once again.

Maybe she saw herself in him, chasing after someone for revenge. Maybe she wondered if she’d ever find a way to recover what they’d taken from her. But mostly, she realized with a little trepidation, she wondered if killing Jeannie May did anything to dampen the fury burning in him… Or if he’d allow her the chance to find out.

“What are you going to do?” she asked quietly. Novac remained silent, even after a shot so close to home.

He didn't answer right away, instead bringing out his lighter and catching the sheet of paper in his hand with the flame, slowly watching as it turned to ash. He let it fall, stepping on the smoldering remains before he looked at her, taking the beret she offered and placing it on his head again, as familiar as an old friend. “I’m not gonna stay here. Maybe I’ll wander, like you.”

It immediately escaped her, before she could stop it. “Why don’t you come with me?”

“You don’t want that.”

Piqued, she couldn’t help it. “Why? You got a bounty on your head? Somebody out for revenge?” She snorted a little, the irony in that almost funny.

But her humor disappeared when she noticed the way his demeanor changed. His shoulders stiffened, his stance becoming defensive once again. He looked caught, almost cornered and the tension was back. But as closed up as he became, she caught something else in his expression; he looked resigned.

She had broken through a layer, not even knowing it until it was taken from her, touching a nerve with her attempt at a joke. Surprised at the amount of emotion that bled out of him, she reached a hand out to his forearm, opening her mouth to apologize.

He frowned at her before she could utter a word, his stare, even with those sunglasses on, intense enough that she froze. “What are you doing?”

She blinked, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Where are you heading?”

“Oh!” She gathered her jumbled thoughts, “I have a debt to collect. Someone owes me, _big time_ ,” she emphasized this with a nod. “I’m heading towards Boulder City.” She then almost immediately began backpedaling, correcting herself, “Ah, but I gotta stop at Primm first. I left someone back there that I need to pick up. Oh, and I owe Primm a new sheriff so we might as well stop and help them out, while we’re there... seems the one I left them with is a total moron at his job.” She shook her head, embarrassed at what she’d heard while listening to Mr. New Vegas on the radio.

His gaze was still burning into her and Six wondered with a flutter in her chest if everything he did was with this much intensity... But he didn’t let her wonder about that for very long. “And if you see Legion?”

Six grew tense, her entire body tightening as she remembered Nipton darkly; the cruelty, the suffering and slavery. The way men could punish others without remorse, the scourge that they were. Her hand still on him, she looked up with eyes gleaming coldly in the moonlight, her voice certain, “They die.”

Seemingly satisfied, he nodded, his smile small but feral as he looked at her. “Fine.”

With bits of blood still drying on her cheek, Six returned the smile brilliantly. “Fine.”

 

* * *

 

Boone gave Six her own beret, something that made Six grin in pleasure, her face pink in appreciation as she realized how meaningful a gift it was.

She hung Sunny’s hat on her bag with a sigh that night as they packed up their belongings and headed out of Novac before Manny woke up and found out she had gone through his terminal and that Boone had left him as the full time sniper.

But Six insisted on a quick bath before they left and after a grunt of acceptance from her new companion, she disappeared into the bathroom for a quick half hour, using all the rationed water she had left over, the drain swirling red and then pink as she washed herself clean, enjoying the feeling of the water immensely. Boone’s fist on the door and a reminder that they needed to put some miles between themselves and Novac finally forced her out. She dried her hair with the threadbare towel, her body with the bed sheet and then braided her hair quickly, adding the beret as she walked out the door, her duster very welcome these cooling nights.

They reached Primm the next evening with no incidents and Six was quick to realize how much better it was travelling having someone there to watch her back, even if Boone was mostly distant and quiet. The reception from the NCR was definitely better, but Six ignored them, finding them completely incompetent here in Primm.

She wondered if she’d have to swallow her feelings for them after talking to Nash in the sheriff’s office, however, her stance annoyed as he gave her the options. “You want the NCR to take over? They don’t have the manpower.”

“It’s either them or that fella at the prison.”

“I’m no good for this town, missy. I tried to tell you when you were here last, when I helped you get rid of the Powder Gangers.”

Six didn’t even bother looking at Beagle who, despite his comment just then, sat in the sheriff’s chair with his boots on the desk, looking decidedly comfortable. Her hand closed over her braid and she gave it a small tug of frustration, wondering how many convicts the prison housed. “I’ll go see what the NCR have to say. But I wanna take a look at the eyebot first.”

Nash nodded, heading back to the casino while she made her way to his home across the quiet courtyard.

Boone spoke up next to her when she reached the doorway of the Mojave Express. “They’re gonna send you up the chain of command to send a request for more troops. They might even approve it now that you cleaned up the trouble here.” He sounded a little surprised, looking at her with a slightly raised eyebrow, asking the question he wouldn’t voice.

But she only nodded, wondering if that was the best way to go. It was the NCR’s fault that the Powder Gangers were even a threat to begin with.

Boone remained outside, smoking a cigarette as she reached the counter top and her old acquaintance, turning on her pip-boy light and bringing out the components one by one, beginning to pull the sensor modules apart for the parts she needed.

Sitting on that stool on that counter top in the Mojave Express office, her lower lip caught in her teeth in concentration, she didn’t even hear Boone when he finally came in, her mind focused on the pieces fitting just so...

Letting out a laugh of triumph, Six watched the eyebot float to the air above her, a series of beeps reaching her ears pleasantly. She looked over at Boone when he let out a sound that sounded almost like a chuckle, surprise definitely on his face now, his eyes glued to the bot.

She knew the eyebot wasn't one-hundred percent, heck, he wasn't even seventy percent, if she were to guess, but he was up and running and as she continued finding the correct parts and magazines on the road, she was sure she could help him improve over time.

She grinned in excitement as she recognized what he told her, her blue eyes shining in understanding. "ED-E, Companion Protocol:: Begin."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things might start moving faster from here on out.


	4. Heartache By The Number

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Courier gets to know her companions, quirks and all, even though they all keep their secrets.

The Courier didn't understand how Boone wasn’t as thrilled as she was that ED-E was the perfect night watch, leaving them both with the option to sleep if they chose.

“Not trusting a robot to keep watch,” he explained, his eyes on the rifle he was piecing back together. Two incomplete, broken down weapons lay in front of him and from what she could tell, he almost had a second hunting rifle put together to back up the one he carried with him already. They had stopped and camped near a ridge, the fire they had started burning steadily and their dinner long gone. His sunglasses were off, folded and hanging on his collar and she was glad for that.

“But he’s an _eyebot_ , it’s what he _does_ ,” she reasoned, a small grin on her face, her own attention on the eyebot in question checking his circuits once again. ED-E hadn’t recovered like she’d hoped but she wasn't discouraged; he was complicated in a way that made her want to figure the problem out, to keep trying. His interior was _fascinating_ , the insides lit up in activity as she closed the small panel opening on the top.

“Don’t trust it,” was his simple response.

ED-E started beeping in response and she huffed at Boone. “ED-E doesn't appreciate that.”

“Is that what you're hearing?” The skepticism was there, clear as daylight.

“Hey, he _is_ talking to me. I'm not a loon, despite first impressions,” but she was still smiling as she objected. She patted the eyebot when she was done checking him and stood up as he floated into the air, beeping appreciatively at her. He started to make figure eights around them, slow and wide as he began checking the perimeter. Six stretched until she heard her spine pop, rubbing her lower back to ease the tension she’d felt building there. “He’ll warns us if something’s coming. ‘Sides, don't you miss getting a full night’s sleep?”

“Never had that,” was his reply, looking down the scope he had just tightened.

“Really?” She wanted to call his bluff. “Not even as a _kid_? Or with the NCR?” She hesitated for a moment but decided to continue anyway, a stubborn part of her wondering how deep this thorn was embedded. “Not even when you were married?”

“Go to sleep, Six,” he told her, putting his work in progress and the remaining parts in his pack before shouldering his own rifle to march past her in the opposite direction as ED-E.

He didn't sound particularly annoyed; just his usual gruff self. She counted that as a victory.

She had also finally made out the color of his eyes. Green. Dark and deep like damp leaves; a color she really liked. He never took those damn sunglasses off during the day.

It wasn't until she was in her bedroll later that it hit her. There were no leaves like that in the Mojave.

She was momentarily stunned, her mind reeling as she realized she’d remembered _something._ Something that wasn't mechanical.

She couldn’t contain her grin at that discovery but she hid it in the cover of her bedroll. Otherwise she knew he'd _really_ think she was a loon.

 

* * *

 

Six noticed that he hardly ever slept around her and she wondered if it was because he was trying to keep his nightmares hidden.

The first couple nights, when it had been just them and no ED-E yet, she’d become aware of them when she would take watch. She heard him in the hours before dawn when it was darkest, muttering in his sleep, his voice low enough that she couldn't make out what he said. But it got more urgent. And then desperate. Until she felt like she was eavesdropping.

That first time, she woke him up, crouching near him and giving his shoulder a gentle shake. He had jerked awake and bolted upright, knocking her off balance to fall back on her rump and they had both stared at each other in surprise, the night dark enough she could barely make out his expression.

He hadn't said anything and she hadn't asked. And he had not talked to her all day afterward, remaining distant and only speaking out of necessity. She wondered if he felt embarrassed, although she had no idea why.

The second time she hadn't woken him. She had instead forced herself to swallow her discomfort and remain nearby. When he eventually startled awake with a choked sound, she remained silent for a moment, not ready to disturb him if he was going to be able to go right back to sleep.

When he didn't, she finally spoke up but kept her eyes on the fire she was stoking slowly, steadily, trying not to cast too much light on them yet. “I'm here… if you need to talk.”

He didn't respond and the silence stretched on until it was almost uncomfortable. Until she heard him roll over, his back to her. His breathing had eventually deepened as he drifted off to sleep once again.

After five nights of her asking ED-E to keep watch but to also wake her up so she could trade out with Boone (she was _positive_ he wouldn’t sleep otherwise), he finally relented. Not completely but he let their sleep overlap a bit in between shifts so they could each get more rest. Whenever they were approached by something while they slept, it was usually ED-E who spotted it first anyway, a warning tune of approaching danger alerting them.

And after about three nights of this, he stopped calling ED-E an _it_ as well.

Progress was progress, she mused, starting to really like their little group.

 

* * *

 

After a couple of side trips, they arrived at the Mojave Outpost near sunset a week and a half or so later, beaten and dirty and baked by the harsh sun. The Courier was tired and over encumbered with gear they’d looted clearing out the NCR Correctional Facility but she stopped at the bulletin board at the opening of the Mojave Outpost anyway, her eyes quickly scanning for any information on missing persons.  

There were many posts at this location, it usually being a hub of traffic. But none of them were about her.

ED-E’s beeping behind her pulled her away from the board as she blinked rapidly, knowing exhaustion had more to do with her itchy eyes than anything else. She patted the eyebot in assurance as he continued beeping at her but his question remained unanswered as she walked past him. She didn’t want to talk about it. Thankfully, Boone only watched her to make sure she was okay; he gave her the same courtesy she had given him.

She hadn’t told them everything yet. She’d told them she was a courier, going after a man that had shot her in the head and stolen the package she was hired to deliver. She told them about the Great Khans who’d helped him and about giving chase as soon as she was able to. She’d told them because she’d been forced to when she had woken up with one of those headaches, having to trade her beret for Sunny’s hat and her bandana the day they had planned to go to the prison to clean out the Powder Gangers.

She had to explain about the headaches and how they were caused by the internal swelling; how they were less frequent but they were bound to happen.

Boone hadn’t let her go that day; he had wanted to postpone until her head was back where it was supposed to be. His tone had been harsh when she’d been about to argue, reminding her that she would put them all in danger if she couldn’t shoot. And she had relented, as she was bound to but she’d felt angry at herself for it, nonetheless.

She hadn’t told them about her memory loss, though. It hadn’t come up and one thing she had learned about Boone in the last three weeks or so was that he wouldn’t pry. He had his own demons to hide.

ED-E, on the other hand, would ask every chance he got if he could be of assistance. She found it amusing that he was the more talkative of the two.

They’d been successful, nonetheless, low on supplies but overloaded with weapons they weren’t interested in keeping. They also needed to get Meyers’ pardoned with the higher ups so he could remain in Primm as their sheriff and this was the place to do it.

While she traded the weapons in for any supplies they could spare, one of the NCR troopers told her she wouldn’t be able to meet with anyone in charge until the next day and Six was only too happy to request accommodations. The trooper pointed her towards the barracks and she thanked him before they headed towards the building and then split up to find free lockers and bathrooms to clean up.

 

* * *

 

Boone finally felt refreshed, pulling on his last clean shirt before he threw his dirty things in the remaining water for his bath with some detergent to let them soak. The blood wouldn’t come out but other stains would at least. He sat down on the bed that would be his in the long dorm room that made up the barracks and cleaned and oiled his rifle while the light was still on, taking his time to get deep in the grooves to get any leftover sand out. When he had finally put it all back together, his fingers sure with practice, he rinsed out his clothes and put them up to dry before he headed to the bar.

The training had never left him. He knew that was one of the reasons he was still alive; he’d been trained to survive and surviving is exactly what he was doing. Because his life over the past year or so had certainly not been living.

He approached the bar with a sense of purpose. Here, he might be able to forget for a little while. Carla had been on his mind a lot, differently than when he was at Novac. Since he had put that demon to rest with the help of the Courier, his thoughts of her weren't just those of self loathing anymore. Now, they were also of grief. He recognized that he was probably mourning.

But he didn't mull over it. He knew it was inevitable after… well, everything in his past. He had thought he could forget. Maybe have a chance to lead a different life. He had made the mistake of thinking he was immune to the punishment he was due and it had cost him dearly.

He frowned, slowing when he caught sight of the Courier, her back to him as she talked to a woman wearing a straw hat next to her. She was resting her chin on her palm, elbow on the bar. Her posture seemed completely relaxed on the barstool, one booted foot on the rung of the stool she sat on, the other swinging slowly as it dangled. She chuckled at something the woman said and he noticed how loose her movements were as she reached for her bottle and took a drink.

She was drunk, Boone thought immediately, his eyes zeroing in on the half empty whiskey bottle she was putting to her lips. She put it down gently and his gaze landed on the other empty bottle near her elbow and then on the beer bottle next to that. She was quite possibly _really_ drunk.

His jaw clenched as he thought about how he was going to get her to bed without causing a scene. She was surprisingly stubborn and aggressive for someone with a seemingly easy going personality and he’d rather do this as quietly as possible.

Boone settled himself down on the stool next to her, ED-E thankfully preferring to patrol the camp outside instead of being stuck indoors. Six glanced over at him from her happy contemplation of her drink, her smile widening as she focused on him, right cheek dimpling. Her hair was completely loose from the braid she usually kept it in. It was still slightly damp and it was drying in loose waves over her shoulder, the dark of her hair gleaming in the muted light of the bar.

“He-ey, was hoping you hadn’t gone to sleep yet.” Her face was rosy under her sunburn and her usually sharp eyes were heavy lidded as she took him in… She was definitely drunk. She smelled of the yellow bar soap that was resident in every NCR barrack he’d ever encountered and it was oddly comforting. Her next words set him on edge, however. “There’s someone I want you to meet. Boone, this is Cass. She’s got a situation we’re gonna look into,” she whispered loudly in what he was sure she thought was subtle, before she gestured at the equally inebriated woman next to her. “Cass, this is Craig Boone, one of the friends I told you about.”

Boone frowned at that, not sure how accurate the term was. They hadn’t been traveling together very long yet. They’d taken out some legionaries they had encountered along the way, not as many as he’d like but she had also been helping some of the locals and so far he had no reason to complain about the alliance he had made with her. After she had helped him in Novac, it didn’t come as a surprise that she would offer the same help for others.

But their relationship had remained pretty superficial. He was starting to get used to the rhythm they were developing, he wasn’t going to deny that but he still didn’t know what her endgame was.

Cass reached up a hand to tip her hat in greeting, the gesture was a bit sloppy. “Nice to meet’cha Craig. But you,” here she pointed at the Courier, her tone accusatory, “you haven’t told me your name yet. I can’t call you _‘Courier’_ ”

Six laughed but the sound was forced, not the amused sound he had heard from her earlier. “Ah… call me Six.”

The woman named Cass scrunched her nose up, clearly not convinced. “Six…”

“Yeah. And we’ll look into your missing caravans tomorrow--”

“Is’n odd name is all,” Cass slurred.

Six seemed to deflate a bit more next to him. “...Yeah, I guess it is.”

Her demeanor turning glum, Boone chose this moment to reach out for her wrist on the bar and give her a gentle pull in the direction of the beds they’d been offered that night. Six remained seated, her eyes focused blearily on the bottle in front of her, finally blinking and taking one last swig before she backed away from the bar. With a murmured “g’night” towards the woman remaining at the bar, she let Boone lead her away quietly.

When she seemed too unsteady to climb to the top bunk, he nudged her towards his bunk on the bottom and made sure she settled herself sideways, a bucket he’d found in the corner on the floor near her head. Just in case. He kept an eye on her as she lay down, her eyes closed, murmuring sleepily on the bed and he found himself wondering what she was hiding.

She was a mystery, the Courier. He believed what she told him about her current objective, didn’t see why she would lie about it. Her scar was there, on her temple, a jagged star of healing skin, still wicked looking. But he knew she was keeping something out of her story, although he wasn’t going to push that she spill her guts. That was not why he was here and as long as they continued hunting Legion, he didn’t really need to know more about her.

But he realized he was starting to respect her, as a person. She tried to do right by people, more so than anyone he had met before. Most people weren’t kind in the wasteland; they wouldn’t last long if they were. But somehow she had remained helpful, not asking for much in return except caps to cover their continued travels.

He didn’t allow himself to hope that absolution was to be found if he continued with her. But he could probably concede that what she had said earlier was right; maybe they were friends.

With a resigned shake of his head, he pulled her boots off when it became apparent that she had clearly forgotten about them.

 

* * *

 

Six woke to a mouth full of sand, her eyes opening blearily as ED-E beeped near her as her usual alarm. “Ungh…”

She needed some water; there were no buts about it. Sitting up, feeling dizzy, she guessed she was probably still a wee bit drunk…

That’s when she saw the hunting rifle propped up on the bed next to her. It was the one Boone had been messing with, putting together for a few days now. She also spotted the bucket. She glanced up, noticing the bed above her wasn’t sagging with someone’s weight before she took in the rest of her surroundings, her eyes going over the sleeping figures and empty beds of the barracks. It didn’t seem like he was in the vicinity.

She forced herself to get up and ready, moving slower than usual as she prepared for the day. She didn’t find him at the bar, though she waved at Cass as she passed her by, the rifle slung over her shoulder as she exited the bar.

She found him outside, leaning against the building and smoking a cigarette, ED-E floating nearby. His attention was on the small shooting range the bored troopers had set up near the two hulking statues, a few of the younger recruits practicing their accuracy in the early morning light.  She followed suit, leaning against the wall as well but when he offered her a cigarette, she refused.

“Might help with the hangover,” he advised quietly.

“Not hung over,” she muttered. Not yet anyway. She sipped from her water bottle slowly, hoping to prevent it from hitting her. She shrugged her shoulder, calling his attention to the slung weapon. “You left this by the bed.”

“It’s for you. Can’t have you shooting through Legate armor with your pea-shooter.”

She paused mid-drink and slowly lowered her bottle, studying him. He didn’t look at her, his attention still on the range. With a rueful smile and a small shake of her head, she continued hydrating, her heart swelling a little. “Legion better watch out.”

He grunted in agreement, the corner of his lip quirking up as ED-E beeped happily next to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	5. Through The Rain of Strontium 90

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Courier tangos with the Legion, part I.

Six concentrated on her breathing, keeping it even and steady as she saw her target come within sight of her scope. It was a Centurion, his silver armor gleaming faintly in the firelight from the torches that were lit up and placed throughout the camp to keep the darkness of the evening at bay as twilight receded. He was the easiest to spot but the hardest to hit from this distance and with his head protected by that helm, ostentatious though it was, it made the kill shot almost impossible.

“Do you think he’s compensating for something?” she wondered quietly.

Boone was lining up his sight as she spotted for him, stretched out on the ground to her right and although she couldn’t see him, she heard the humor in his voice. It was almost imperceptible but she’d gotten better at detecting it. “Now I am.”

She moved the scope away from her eyes, gazing down into the camp from the safety of their perch on a ridge overlooking the Legion outpost, far enough away that they were safe from the attention of the majority of legionnaires. She felt the adrenaline spiking in her system, her hair almost standing on end, her senses on high alert. They had counted at least a dozen so far in the camp below and she wondered if another scout would get a little too close to their location again, helping thin that number out a little more.

ED-E was floating closer to the camp as he was almost invisible in the night, with no footsteps to give him away. She had adjusted some of his programming, giving him the ability to go into stealth mode. His warning tune was silenced and his lights dimmed to the point that she hadn’t noticed he was back until he bumped into her to get her attention. She felt her breath catch even though she was expecting him.

“ED-E, Tactics Interface:: Open. Stealth mode off.” She waited until he lit up normally again so he could respond. “What did you see?” He began beeping and her gaze sharpened as he continued, frowning as she pieced together what he was telling her. Her tone was troubled when he finished. “Three captives... How did they look? How many Legion are near them?”

Boone straightened, his eyes going from ED-E to her, waiting for him to finish. “How many more did he see that we didn’t?”

She was grim and tugged on her hair, her hand at the nape of her neck as her eyes became distant in thought. “There’s at least twenty, maybe more in the mess hall, it’s still early enough to be dinnertime. The captives are a girl, an older brother and their mother. They have collars, in a pen next to the building that peacock is standing on.” Her humor was gone. “Two guards walk the perimeter of their cage and the tents of a majority of the legionnaires are on the other side of them. The lake is behind them, the only way to approach is from one side.” She glanced over to the camp again, eyes drawn to the flames a distance away. Her tone was low and her voice sounded defeated. “We’d never be able to sneak them outta there. I don’t even know if I can get their collars off without screwing up and getting us blown up.”

Boone was frowning darkly, his gaze following hers to Cottonwood Cove. “Can’t even see them from here.”

“No…We need backup.”

They remained there for a moment, not near enough to see the people that would soon be ferried over to become slaves. Determined, they picked up their weapons and headed west with urgency in their steps.

 

* * *

 

Sergeant Astor wasn’t able to help.

The first NCR outpost they approached was near Camp Searchlight and it was almost drowned in radiation, near enough that it made the Geiger counter on Six’s pip-boy click alarmingly.

No, he asked for her help instead, after she told him about Cottonwood Cove.

She cursed the NCR silently again, knowing they meant well for the most part, but really frustrated with their current methods. They were spread too damn thin, their hands in everything when they should be focusing on the Dam. But she understood why Astor chose to remain here. He felt responsible for what had happened in Camp Searchlight, for what had befallen his comrades. And he wanted to keep an eye on those he was supposed to help, making sure they didn’t hurt anyone else.

Knowing they would have to do this on their own, they remained there that day, taking some time to replenish. They rested and ate a warm meal from what they scavenged. They shared with Astor and his troops, having plenty of Bighorner meat they couldn’t finish by themselves and in return they requested some ammo and a couple of stimpaks.

They broke down and cleaned and repaired their weapons, and split up the ammo, Boone muttering that they should have stocked up better on armor piercings. But that would require a trip they didn’t have the time for.

If the captives were to be saved, they had no more time to spare. Even though they both knew it was a suicide mission.

 

* * *

 

Six knew it was going to be an argument. She just didn’t anticipate how big of one it was going to be.

“What about our deal, Six? Why the fuck did I leave Novac if not for this?”

“I’ll come back for you--”

“You shouldn’t be going by yourself in the first place,” he snapped, his arms crossed, eyes narrowed. It brought back to mind the first time they’d met, his demeanor as outwardly hostile with her now as he had been then. She really hated backtracking with him... They were almost at a point she could call comfortable. True, she was used to being the one to initiate the conversations but his responses had been better, coming easier and more often. He was following her lead and even though she wasn’t completely sure why, he usually did what she asked. Even though she knew she was slowly letting herself get pulled in too many directions as she wound her way through the Mojave.

But she felt there was an understanding between them now, that their views were pretty aligned when it came to what they were doing in the wasteland. When she wanted to help, he never complained, even though the majority of the trash they had cleaned up so far had been either escaped convicts or drugged-up Fiends as they made their way ever closer to New Vegas. They had helped the NCR, even though they agreed that the army wasn’t focusing on what it should.

But she wasn’t going to back down on this.

“They will shoot us on sight if they see you. They don’t recognize me yet, especially if I don’t wear my beret,” she reasoned. She remained calm, collected. Six was already dressed for her journey; road leathers, duster, bandana around her neck and Sunny’s hat on her head. Her braid was tucked away beneath the duster collar. Her hunting rifle and a shotgun were strapped to her back, her 10 millimeter on one hip, a machete on the other.

The beret in question was clenched in her hand, her grip on it tightening as he continued to fight her on this.

“So you’re going to just waltz into a Legion camp and, what? You expect to walk out again?” he scoffed, his tone making her ire rise.  “You’re a woman. What makes you think they won’t just collar you and ferry you across as well? What they’d do to you is worse than what they do to their slaves.” His voice was full disdain and even though she knew it wasn’t directed at her, her back was stiff and her hands clenched.

Six understood where this was coming from and she knew her patience with this conversation was because of what she knew about him. He had told her about Carla and what he’d done when he tracked her down, when he’d found her about to be auctioned off to the highest bidder. It broke her heart when he told her, giving her a new reason to not want to fuck this up in any way, considering the suffering he already carried with him.

But that was her point as well. Her gaze was icy as she regarded him. “No one deserves to be in their clutches, Boone.”

“You’re being an idiot,” he growled at her, clearly frustrated but Six didn’t relent, her own hackles rising as she glared at him.

“And you're being an asshole and I hope that’s all you had to share because this discussion is _over._  Your opinion has been noted. No one can help us and we don’t have _time,_  think of what they’ll do to that girl if we leave them there!” And with patience finally spent she tossed the beret at him, anger giving it more force as it hit his chest before falling to the ground. She didn’t bother waiting to see if he would pick it up, instead turning on her heel and marching away, ED-E floating behind her silently for once.

She stalked past Sergeant Astor as she left the green miasma that enveloped Camp Searchlight, he and his troops returning to their small camp from their scout around the irradiated perimeter. “I’ll get your intel, Astor but don’t let anyone come after me.”

She didn’t wait for a response once again as she picked up some speed and began running east, hoping her anger would slowly burn off because she needed her head to be clear.

 

* * *

 

She approached Cottonwood Cove slowly, waiting until right before sunset so she wouldn’t approach after dark and seem more suspicious. Or more liable to get shot on accident considering she didn’t have her companions with her. She had asked ED-E to stay behind, floating behind a boulder near the outskirts of the camp, ready to join the fray if necessary, though she really hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

The crucified men along the way had let them know they were on the right path to the entrance. She had approached the men, looking up at them helplessly… most of them didn’t stir anymore, even when she reached out to them. She couldn’t help them, though, not now, not when her plan was already in motion. She needed to focus and get the ones inside free first. She would help tie them down if she could once she headed back this way but not before.

She approached the entrance at a slow jog, her cap purse jingling as the first legionnaire approached, his gaze suspicious. She didn’t let him intimidate her, knowing everything depended on how she carried herself through this camp.

“Ave. Who are you and why are you travelling alone _woman_?” He spat the last word.

“Who do I see here if I wanna trade?” She asked simply, slowing to a stop as she reached for a cigarette and lighter, offering him one after she lit up. He refused with a disgusted noise, sneering as he regarded her. When he didn't respond, she continued, tone a little irate. “I’m a trader, buddy. Heard you have some interesting goods for sale here and I’m interested in buying.” She patted her belt in emphasis.

His look didn’t change but he finally ground it out, both of them knowing full well Caesar’s stance with traders. “Canyon Runner, in the back,” he muttered with a nudge of his head in the direction before he let her through. His warning was a promise if she tried anything stupid.

She returned the scorn with her eyes, letting him know he didn’t intimidate her as she walked past him, one hand in the pocket of her duster, the other one flicking the cigarette she was inhaling slowly, her nerves loosening infinitesimally. She would have to remain tough enough not to be pushed over but she’d have to follow their rules as a trader. She knew it was a fine line.

Her eyes took in what they could before eventually landing on her target. The two story building that the Centurion was keeping watch from was small and there was a door to her right as she got closer, the stairs to reach the second floor on the opposite end of the building. She needed to get in there, pretty certain that if Legion coordination plans were anywhere they’d be where the Centurion was hovering.

Her gaze traveled to him and she became aware of the way he was watching her from above. She felt her scalp tingle, feeling it spread to the back of her neck where she felt his gaze remained as she passed below him, where he probably wanted the arc of his blade to cut into her. He would want to watch as she bled out, she knew instinctively.

She shook that thought off as best she could as she approached the penned captives.

A decanus and his mongrel passed close enough to her to cause her to falter momentarily, the mutt growling at her as they passed by. But she tore her eyes from them and forced herself to focus on the legionary she was approaching instead.

Canyon Runner’s cold dark eyes studied her, sizing her up, in a way that had her teeth clenching. She knew he had seen her hesitate a moment ago, had seen her fear. She knew what he was doing as well, how he was weighing her value but he didn’t talk to her the way the other legionary had; this one was business. “Ave. Have you come to trade for captures?”

She glanced at them behind him, noticed all of their fearful attention was on her. She frowned as she took them in, taking a final drag of her cigarette before crushing it beneath her boot, taking some pleasure in exhaling near his face. “Don’t like the look of them from here… how much for the lot of them?”

“They’re a weak bunch; I’d rather sell them and use the currency on something more useful. The only one of real value is the girl but I’d be willing to part with all of them. What’s your offer for the bunch?”

“I want a closer look first.”

“Go right ahead.” And he smiled at her, his canines gleaming in the faint light as he stepped aside just enough to give her room to pass. Someone with eyes that cold shouldn’t smile that widely, she thought, his expression causing ice to gather in her stomach. His deranged look followed her and she made sure not to be obvious about how much she didn’t want to touch him as she walked past him to the prisoners.

Her eyes quickly traveled over them as she neared. They looked miserable but unhurt, which was a small miracle. “What are your names?” she whispered, kneeling near the fence.

“Will you help my children, _please_?” the woman begged, her voice so low that Six almost didn’t hear her. But she had and her hands tightened on the steel wiring she was gripping. She returned the woman’s look, taking in the fear and desperation there.

Steeling herself, she turned towards Canyon Runner, her expression still a bit skeptical.

“They look sick; what did you expose them to here?”

“What’s your price, desolute? We can’t haggle until I know what you’ll part with.” His smile didn’t change, he made her feel completely exposed and she had to shake that off. It was starting to grate on her.

“Three hundred caps.”

“Done.” He came to her as she counted out her caps, reaching into his belt for the key, standing too close to her until she tensed. He knew he was getting to her and she kept counting her caps as he spoke, his voice low and amused. “I have a collar that would fit on that pretty neck of yours, desolute. You would give up that filthy little habit of yours and instead suck the cocks of all of my _contubernia._ I’d have you do it again and again until they unhinged your jaw. _”_ She felt her hands shake in anger but she kept her breathing even. His tone changed again, becoming cold. “And then I’d have you do it again _and_ _again_ , until you choked on Legion cock and wished you were dead. Now get them out of my sight before we hack them to pieces.” He was snarling at the end.

She shoved the caps into his hands and snatched the key, keeping her shaking in check as she stepped away from him. She knew she was surrounded and at this point she wasn’t sure if the shaking was from fear or anger. It didn’t matter; she needed to get these people _out_.

She collapsed on her knees in front of them, fumbling with the key for a bit until she heard the first click. “Head to New Vegas,” she began urgently, keeping her voice low. “There should be a clinic in that direction and you should be checked out. If you’re heading west, head to Primm or even Goodsprings. Some good people are there. Tell them Courier Six sent you.”

The mother was crying and her son wrapped an arm around her as he helped her up, nodding his head in the Courier’s direction. “We will. Thank you. We will never be able to repay you. My name’s Kenny, by the way. Kenny Weathers. That’s my sister Sammy. _Thank you._ ”

He stopped blabbing and began walking away, his mother grabbing the Courier’s hand as she was led past. She felt the squeeze on her hand before she was pulled away and Six felt herself calm a little bit, hoping fervently that they’d find safe haven. Sammy said a quiet thank you as she ran past, her tears already drying, keeping up with her family as they slowly made their way out of the camp.

Canyon Runner had already walked away when she turned, the collars clenched in her hands. Her eyes followed him as he went in the opposite direction the Weathers were hurrying towards. She ignored the two other guards as she walked out through the open gates, stuffing the collars into her duster pockets. She needed to get quick at unlocking them without triggering the bombs, knowing it could help others in the future.

She walked past the Centurion again, not looking up this time. She wouldn’t be able to get the intel Astor needed, she knew. She was already pushing her luck and she needed to get out of here, unnerved despite her efforts.

She made her way out of the camp slowly, lighting up another cigarette with barely shaking fingers, heading back the way she had come in but keeping her eyes on the Weathers. They were ahead of her and she saw them heading up the slope leading towards the crucified men slowly but surely.

She neared the boulder she had asked ED-E to wait by, knowing she would have to head west and report her failure to Astor.  Leading him away in stealth mode, they kept a wide berth from the scout that was heading back to the center of the camp.  When she was nearing the crucifixions, she asked ED-E to return to normal.

He began beeping immediately, forcing her to glance over her shoulder quickly in fear that he was heard. But what he said made her even more alarmed.

“How close is he?” she whispered furiously. She should’ve known, really. Boone despised the Legion and she had left him behind, what had she expected?

_Him to do as I asked and trust me._

ED-E beeped again and she looked to the south, to the faint shadowy outlines of houses and other single floor structures on a ridge overlooking the camp. In her mind’s eye, she could see how his scope had been focused on her throughout her trip through the camp, keeping an eye on her.

The thought made her nerves loosen, calming her better than the chain smoking she’d done since arriving at the Legion outpost. She let out a deep breath, the fear that had slowly grown in the camp slowly fading. She frowned, annoyed that she felt her anger at him deflating a little.

She gestured for ED-E to lead the way, his vision better than hers as they slowly climbed the ledge. It was a campground, the houses more cabins than actual homes. A truck was close to the edge she had approached from and as she neared it her pip-boy began clicking in warning. She slowed, hearing Boone approaching from her right as she edged closer to the truck, the clicking getting more intense. Climbing down the ledge carefully to peak over the back end of the truck, her eyes lit up as she saw the type of lock on the door.

She turned to Boone triumphantly, her earlier irritation completely disappearing. “I think I can unlock this.”

His arms were crossed, his tone fierce in understanding. "Would really fuck with Caesar’s plans if we cripple this outpost. I’m helping.” He left no room for argument this time.

She took out her bobby pins and screwdriver and focused on unlocking the door while he kept a grip on her, standing to the side on more solid ground with a hand on her arm. He remained ready to pull her out of the way when she unlocked the metal door, the position she had to be in to do so precarious. They had no idea how quickly anything would be as it came tumbling out and she was liable to get caught up in whatever fell out. It was a bit hard to maneuver but she eventually heard the telltale click.

“Boone!” And he pulled her back, grabbing her around the waist as well and propelling her ahead of him. The force had her scrambling up the ledge and she turned when she reached the top, giving Boone a hand up the final steps.

Barrels of nuclear waste slid down into the camp, breaking open as they hit anything and everything, the headquarters and the mess hall, some falling apart before then and spreading on the ground. The insides spilled quickly, ruining the earth and killing the legion camp a lot more quickly than she anticipated.

Even the Centurion crumpled, falling like all the others in his heavy metal armor.

Her eyes searched for Canyon Runner and when she finally spotted him, his body still and silent near the mess hall he had been leaving, she felt a sense of sick satisfaction. He would never enslave anyone else again.

“Pity. Didn’t get to shoot any,” Boone lamented. His tone was anything but regretful though, his eyes taking in the dying camp with appreciation.

She hummed next to him, her eyes on the few that were still running, each slowing inevitably. Camp Searchlight wouldn’t be the only casualty of radiation in this war; Caesar’s Legion would have to swallow their own brand of warfare.

She felt the first tinges of nausea as she kept watching and Boone seemed to understand because he turned her away, leading them away from the overlook. He remained silent a moment while she swallowed, getting herself under control.

He eventually dug into his pack, handing her the beret back. “You got 'em out.” He sounded proud but that tone of surprise was in his voice again. Like in Primm.

Her smile was watery but it brightened her face as she took the beret back, straightening out the material in her hands. “I was scared shitless at one point. Didn’t get the intel Astor needed, either.”

“He might not care so much once he knows what happened instead.”

ED-E beeped in agreement and she let herself slowly savor their success. Not every day two people and an eyebot took out a whole legion camp, she supposed.

They walked in silence, lost in their own thoughts for a good part of the hour. When Boone spoke up, she was a bit startled, her thoughts having strayed to the faint memory of a young girl slowly becoming clearer the more she focused on it.

“Hey.”

“Hmm?” she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, realizing the mood had changed as they walked.

He didn’t say anything immediately, finally coming to a full stop. But then, “Try not to leave me behind. Snipers work better in pairs...” He sounded hesitant still but he took a breath, turning to look at her directly, sunglasses reflecting the moonlight. “Just remember – I’ve got your back.”

She smiled at him, her fondness evident and she reached out to grab his hand and give it a firm squeeze. His palm was calloused as she gripped it.

“I know that, Craig.”

And she relished his surprised look and the feel of his skin on hers, her smile widening. She gave his hand one last squeeze before letting go and continuing ahead of him, happy to know things were fine between them and that none of them had been killed.

She heard him eventually gather himself and catch up to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took a bit, but I hope you enjoyed!


	6. If You're Cruel, You Can Be Kind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Courier’s past starts creeping up. So does Boone’s.

When Six first met Arcade, she was bleeding profusely from her scalp after a run in with some Fiends. She'd been nicked by a bullet and the bleeding was way more than when she had gotten shot _through_ the head with nowhere near the same amount of damage. A portion of her scalp was torn and raw and her hair became a sticky, matted mess. A side of her face was crusted with it already and she was slowly drifting into unconsciousness, so she was sure she hadn't made much sense when she had tried to answer his questions.

She was the literal definition of a bloody idiot.

Not the first impression she would have wanted to make.

Her bandana had not been able to do staunch the steady flow, even after Boone had padded it with a spare shirt he had ripped up and tied as tight as he possibly could around her head. It hurt like a bitch, but Boone completely ignored her complaints and forced her to hurry as they headed to the nearest clinic. She couldn't keep track of where they were going, only knew it was _bad_ because the bleeding had continued, a little slower but it was steady, until the bandana was completely soaked almost all the way around.

She grew dizzy and lost her footing, landing on hands and knees painfully on the hard-packed dirt. The fall jarred her awake and when she lifted her aching palm up, she saw a piece of glass embedded there, a fresh line of crimson slowly edging out.

The sight of it brought memories of a messy backyard. Somewhere sunny but not as hot as it got here. She remembered her cousin, her little sister, being kids and chasing each other around the scrap. She had fallen back then as well, a piece of glass going through her palm, another through her knee. A recollection of getting yelled at when she cried afterward and her mother spanking her once she found out what happened.

Always double the punishment, she thought dully, the smell of her own blood getting nauseating.

" _Mensa,_ " she repeated under her breath, what her mother had called her then as Boone helped her up. It was fortunate that they were near Freeside and the Old Mormon Fort by then as she could barely keep herself up as they made it through the heavy wooden door.

The majority of the doctors had gone on emergency call to the east, where a fight between the Freeside gang calling themselves the Kings and some NCR troops had erupted, the tension finally spilling over. They had exchanged fire, a lot of them wounded but so far none of them had gotten killed. Which was lucky as it prevented an all out war between both parties.

Six had found out about all of this later, after she had been dumped on an empty bed where Arcade had been the only doctor on duty. She hadn't gotten a good look at him at the time, just the sense that he was tall. A glimpse of the edge of a white lab coat and dark rimmed glasses were her first impressions of him before he shone a light into her eyes and blinded her, asking questions she didn't have the answers to.

"You’ve lost a lot of blood from a gunshot wound to the scalp so let’s start with some basics. What’s your name? How old are you?"

It was his voice that did her in, honestly. Her reaction to him was intense and when she confessed to him about it later, much _much_ later, when her crush was long gone (the irregular heartbeat, breath a little short, feeling nervous and sweaty), he would tell her that it was the shock that caused that reaction, not her feelings for him.

And he was partially right, she was sure. But she also knew how strong her attraction had been that first day she met him. Just like she knew he hated to think he had that kind of effect on her, on anyone, always one to sell himself short.

She managed to utter something, even though consciousness was fleeting. When he didn't understand her, Boone repeated it and she noticed the quirk of eyebrow on the doctor’s face as he repeated her name. "Six? Now that’s a name you don’t hear very often. Although I probably shouldn't talk, really; not like my name's what you'd consider common."

No one knew how old she was but if she were to hazard a guess, she would say she was in her twenties. She didn’t have that awkwardness to her body anymore, the swell of her breasts and hips full but not overly so. She was a grown woman, she knew that. And even though her skin was sun browned, her smile lines were not etched in her face.

He would probably think she was even more of an idiot when he found out she didn't know her age, she thought mournfully.

He had to scramble for supplies as he didn't have his bag with him, but when he returned, he was wonderfully gentle. His hands were cold and soothing on her wounded head and his care reminded her of Trudy for a brief painful moment. She felt tears prickle the corners of her eyes involuntarily, though she let him believe it was because of the antiseptic when he asked.

The doctor’s voice remained as calming as his hands. Where Boone's voice was low and made her warm up inside, the doctor's voice was cool and slowly made her feel at ease. She relaxed under his touch, almost lulled into sleep before he brought her awake again, squeezing her bicep a couple of times and calling her name.

"You have to stay awake. There’s a pretty good chance you’re concussed."

He helped her sit up and she brushed loose hair away from her face, her head neatly bandaged all the way around now. She wondered absently if she’d be able to hide the new bald spot, once again thankful her head of hair was thick as the doctor began working on her hand, his head bent low.

Boone and ED-E had remained inside the tent and ED-E began beeping at her, his tone almost scolding. She tried not to laugh as she responded. "I was not being irresponsible. I didn't see him, it was an honest mistake."

ED-E beeped again and she scoffed, turning to Boone to confirm they'd lost the bounty with her uneven head shot when she was interrupted.

"You're _having a conversation_ with the eyebot?" the doctor asked, his voice heavy with skepticism as he looked up.

He was worse than Boone, she thought, rolling her eyes. " _Yes_. Why is that so hard to believe?"

He studied her with renewed scrutiny, a small frown on his face. "Where are you from again?"

She tried not to fidget under his gaze, swallowing self consciously. "I… don't remember."

His frown deepened, probably wondering if she was lying, her hand momentarily forgotten. "Why? What happened to you?”

“I got shot in the head.”

“Yes, that happened a couple of hours ago,” he confirmed slowly, beginning to look concerned. But he seemed to remember then, having just had his hands all over her head. “Does this have anything to do with the scar on your right temple?"

Knowing all of them were focused on her now, she was uncomfortable under the attention. "Yes. It’s all gone, everything before that happened."

He looked even more confused and she knew more questions were going to follow, most of which she had gone over in her mind repeatedly with no new answers.

"How much do we owe you, doc?" It was Boone, causing them both to lose focus on each other. Six was silently grateful even though she couldn't look at him.

The good doctor was the one that actually blushed this time, a faint pink growing on his cheekbones as he looked at the sniper. "Oh, no cost. Followers of the Apocalypse, you know. We make no monetary gain from this, we just want to help the masses. _Ex nihilo nihil fit_ , as the saying goes. Not that we're making much difference here." He sounded almost bitter at the end, but shrugged it off before turning back to her, his frown not completely gone. "So it’s probably safe to say you have no idea what blood type you are." At her embarrassed shrug, he almost sighed. "No help for it, then. Rest and plenty of fluids for you. We will have to keep you on a regular schedule of meals as well..."

He finished the bandage and finally accepted the caps Boone offered, saying that even though they weren’t medical supplies, they could use the caps to replenish their low stock of alcohol.

Boone picked up and handed her her satchel and settled into the empty chair nearby, bringing out her 10 millimeter which had finally broken. She dug into her bag, looking for the newest issue of Fixin' Things she had found, her mind already wondering if an upgrade was in order. But before she was lost in the magazine, she looked up at the doctor and smiled, trying to normalize herself around him. "Thanks for the help doc."

"Please don't call me that. My name is Arcade Gannon and I’m more of a researcher really." He paused, glancing at the eyebot out of the corner of his eye. "No offense, but there's something about that robot that doesn't seem… all right to me..."

She raised her eyebrows at him, but he looked uncomfortable enough with what he had just said that he didn't continue. "I'll come check on you in a couple of hours. _Don't_ fall asleep." And with that, he turned and left the tent.

 

* * *

 

Six realized she would never have had a chance with him the very next day, when she saw Arcade around Boone again.

She smiled wryly to herself, a little disappointed. But she couldn't blame him, watching the way Arcade stared at the man when he thought no one was looking.

It loosened her tongue around him, though, allowing her to talk to him like a normal person. And she found that she _loved_ talking to him. Arcade was sarcastic. And well read. And he got her barely-there sense of humor, more silly than snarky. His wit was cutting sometimes and she took great delight in it, enjoying it and appreciating his noble side as well. He was someone she wanted to know, she realized from the start.

He had some theories on her memory loss when she told him how little things about her past were starting to come to light. They were nothing substantial yet and he didn't assure her that her memories would come back. But there was hope since some of them had started trickling in already, he said.

When she was cleared to leave, a few days later, she asked him to come with her.

She felt Boone's questioning stare at her side, not having discussed this with him but her eyes were focused on Arcade as he eyeballed her, his eyebrow quirked again. There was disbelief in his voice. "... Why should I go anywhere with you?"

And she was honest, knowing she had to be with him if she wanted him by her side. His cause was already admirable; he would need a good reason to leave. "Things are bad around here. I'd like to make a difference, and I'd like you to help me."

His brows had risen as she spoke, piqued she could tell. He didn't say no to her right away. Instead he seemed to be in deep thought, his expression closing off a bit. "I'll have to think on it. I can't give you an answer right now."

And Six accepted it, knowing she'd have to prove herself to him.

But she knew she would come back for him.

 

* * *

 

They returned to McCarran, without the head of the Fiend Violet unfortunately. The shot Six had been lining up for Violet had gone off course after she had gotten shot herself and Violet's head was nearly unidentifiable after a couple of rounds to the face, if Boone and ED-E were to be believed. She wasn’t completely sold, thinking they had just rushed her off once they saw how bad her bleeding had become.

They decided to stay the night there, the 1st Recon unit letting them bunk with them in the extra beds in their tent even though they didn't technically succeed in getting the bounty. Lieutenant Gorobets had been kind, welcoming an ex-1st Recon with open arms, even though Boone didn't seem anywhere near as friendly in return.

Not that he ever did, Six thought with an amused smile. But at least he joined them in their card game.

They drank a little, the only other woman in the tent, Corporal Betsy, quite happy to oblige them. They sat around the small table in the tent, Betsy and 10 of Spades who were off duty, Six and Boone, a few bottles and some cards between them. And once he had finished with his walk, Corporal Sterling joined them as well, all of them scooting closer to each other to give the man room so he could be dealt in.

Six knocked her leg against Boone's, not realizing how close they were until she reached out for the bottle and sat back, her thigh against his. Once she was comfortably seated, she nudged his elbow playfully, trying to get him to drop the mismatched deck of cards the unit kept with them at all times. She didn’t succeed and he continued shuffling, not looking up.

He waited to nudged her back when she was about to take a drink, nearly getting her to spill it as she tried not to laugh, knowing the whiskey was getting to her already.

10 of Spades was doing better than she was. He had stopped drinking after game three, trying to focus more on the game after losing bad the first two hands. He had almost won the last one, his eyes now focused on the cards as Boone asked Betsy to cut the deck.

"M-m-m-my turn to win, just you watch," he promised under his breath and she grinned at him, at his determination, taking another shot of the whiskey before passing the bottle around.

Boone passed on the drink so she handed the bottle to Betsy, who kept her gaze on Six as she put her lips to the mouth, winking when she noticed the Courier's eyes on her. Betsy hadn't been shy, not since they met a week ago. When she took the drink, her eyes were inviting behind her sunglasses, licking her bottom lip once she was done.

The thought, the memory of Sunny's lips on hers came unbidden to Six. Knowing her face was burning up, she stood abruptly, about to excuse herself to head outside for some fresh air. But she turned just as someone was making their way into the tent and all of their attention turned to the newcomer. It was the sniper she hadn't met yet as he had been on leave when they had first arrived to McCarran.

"Sergeant Bitter-Root," Sterling welcomed, but the sergeant didn't look at his partner, his glare on Six and she couldn't stop herself from staring back, her body tingling in recognition.

"... Teo?"

His expression darkened even more, if that were possible. "I don't go by that name anymore, cuz. Not for a few years now. I almost didn't recognize you." She reeled a bit, her breath caught in her throat at his words, at his familiarity. "How you doing, Juniper?"

" _Juniper_?"

He noticed her confusion, his own expression beginning to mirror it. It was then that he noticed all eyes on them from the table and he went around it and grabbed her by the elbow, pulling her out of the tent to the relative quiet of the night outside. Although she didn't ask him, Six was glad when Boone followed them out, though he kept a little distance from where Bitter-Root ( _Teo_ , her memory supplied) stopped.

Teo turned her to face him, flicking the beret on her head with his finger. It was a move so familiar it brought a slew of memories to her, too fast for her to process but that reminded her that this man _was_ her cousin, the boy she and her sister had grown up with. "What are you doing with a 1st recon?" he asked quietly, his dark eyes going straight to Boone.

"He's my partner," she supplied, too busy trying to put the pieces together in her head to notice the look he gave her when she said that. "Teo… I… I don't remember…" she paused and took a breath, tried again. "I don't remember much of anything.. I got a head injury and it knocked everything out."

He shook his head as he studied her, the sour look returning as he took her in. "It's probably better that you don't remember some parts…"

But he began telling her about her family.

 

* * *

 

Six didn't sleep much that night.

Teo told her about her past, about their mothers. Sisters, but as different from each other as two related people could be. While her mother had left the tribes as young woman and traveled out of California, Teo's mom had remained, getting caught up in tribal warfare until she had finally headed out east and eventually met up with a Great Khan, Teo's bastard of a father as Teo described him. Both his parents had been addicts, living their lives for chems. The situation had gotten bad enough that when her mother had stopped by to visit, years since they had last seen each other, she had taken Teo with her, not happy to leave the boy behind in their care.

Six and Teo had grown up together, becoming as close as siblings in that old farm to the north, closer to the mountains where Six's mom had taken refuge when she was pregnant with her little sister. She didn't know where her father was during that time. Neither did Teo, both of them being too young to remember the details.

But Teo had been forced to return to his family a few years later, eleven to her thirteen, when Six's mother had taken ill and couldn't take care of them anymore. He had ridden with a caravan that would eventually take him home, his eyes haunted as they said goodbye, waving at each other until they couldn't see each other anymore in the distance.

Six knew her mother had never recovered from that illness, it slowly deteriorating her. She did some careful math in her head and figured that she had gotten the job as a Courier a few years after, still a teenager and still underage. But Teo confirmed that she had a younger sister, one that she had probably taken care of once her mother had died.

Neither of them knew what had happened to her, though, losing touch after that. Teo had tried sending letters but he stopped after he didn't know where his letters addressed to her should go.

Six cried a bit there with him, mourning a past she couldn't quite remember. Teo had even hugged her, still a little stiffly, clearly something he was not used to anymore. His face hadn't softened, though. He had led a hard life after their childhood.

As they turned back toward the tent, looking at the darkened camp, he told her about it. He told her about what his parents had done when he'd come back to them. How his mother tried to sell him when she had no money for her chems anymore, how his father had made him shoot the NCR, be they soldiers or civilians. He told her that he realized he might not have survived growing up with them had her mom not taken him away when she did. His face hardened as he told her, but his tone remained the same. Cold, impassive.

He told her about Bitter Springs and the massacre, how he had earned his new name. How he wasn't remorseful that he had been involved in the death of a few of his own tribe. He hated them, he didn't hide it.

When she told him about the Khans being involved with Benny, he wasn't surprised.

But what finally made her feel a little more at ease was when he spoke of Major Dhatri. Six had met him earlier, getting their bounty orders on the Fiends from him and he had seemed a decent man. Teo spoke of him the same way he spoke of the others, short and succinct. But when Dhatri was mentioned, his eyes changed, the way they had when he had told her of their shared childhood.

Teo had made it out okay, despite the odds.

Six felt that maybe she had a chance, too.

 

* * *

 

Bitter-Root left her a couple of hours later. He gave her a small hug, better than the first one he had given her, and a flick to the beret on her head once again. She forced another hug onto him, though, making sure this one lasted, not knowing how soon it would be before they saw each other again.

And she called him Bitter-Root as she said goodbye to him, making him promise to call her Six for now. She hadn't earned her old name yet, even though she scrunched her nose at it, not quite liking how it slid off her tongue.

When she walked back to the tent, trying to remain quiet since she heard snores coming from within, she noticed Boone was on the couch on one end of the tent, spotting him by the lit cherry of his cigarette. She settled down next to him, and when he offered her a smoke, she accepted it, lighting up and exhaling her first drag with a heavy sigh.

"Wanna talk about it?" he finally offered.

"Nah," she said after a while. But when she leaned into him, exhausted and still feeling a little raw, he lifted an arm and settled it over her shoulders, letting her sink into him. And she was grateful for that, immensely.

They smoked in silence for a time, watching the moonlight change the shadows outside.

And then, quietly, still conscious of where they were sitting, "...Craig?"

"...Yeah?"

"Do you care that I can't remember who I am? Who I was?"

He pulled away a little to look at her and when she couldn't see his eyes, she reached out and pulled the shades off. He blinked as his eyesight readjusted and she was grateful once again, that he had let her.

He didn't respond right away, looking away as he took a slow drag. His eyes remained glued to the butt as he put it out in the ashtray on the couch arm next to him. When he spoke to her, his voice was even lower and she was glad for the relative quiet among the deep breathing around them. She could feel the rumbling of his voice through his neck, her face close enough that she felt the stubble growing there brush against her forehead and then her cheekbone as she shifted her head to look at him. "There's a lot of things you don't know about me, Six. Things that might change what you think of me."

She knew he was hiding part of himself, but she felt that was irrelevant at this point. She'd seen him do so much _right_ , gotten rid of so many bad things, be it Fiends terrorizing people, convicts threatening, or legion enslaving, they had cleaned it up. "But that's not who you are now, Craig. We all have a past."

And she wanted to continue cleaning it up, if she had any say in the matter.

She felt his nod before he spoke. "There's your answer, then. I know you right now. That's enough."

She was properly silenced, struggling with the mass she felt growing in her throat.

It took him some time to speak again but when he did it was with an air of finality. "I've got bad things coming to me, Six. I have a lot of debts to pay, more so than your city boy Benny probably. It's why I left the NCR in the first place." His voice was getting tight, the tension growing there and she didn't ask any more questions, letting him continue talking if he wanted to. She was aware this was difficult enough as it was. "I was at Bitter Springs; I was 1st Recon there and Bitter Root was right. It was a massacre."

He didn't go into further detail and she didn't push, not right now. She just turned this information over and over in her head, trying to reconcile what she knew of this man who she had been travelling with for a couple of months now and what Bitter-Root had told her happened at Bitter Springs.

They allowed the silence to remain, slowly sinking into it and eventually she fell asleep, her head still on his shoulder and her upper body draped on his chest. He slowly stretched himself out and got as comfortable as he could, pulling the beret over his eyes, as exhausted as she was.

 

* * *

 

When Bitter-Root headed out at dawn, he didn't want to wake her. They had already said their goodbyes the night before, there was no need for a repeat. But he looked straight at the sniper she had fallen asleep on, noting with some grudging approval that the sniper was still alert enough to wake even though Bitter-Root hadn't made any noise.

The sniper turned a glare at him from what he could see of his eyes under the beret. "What is it?"

Six didn't stir, her face buried in his chest, braid slowly coming undone.

Bitter-Root shook his head, not liking the man. It had nothing to do with him having been part of Bitter Springs, the sergeant assured himself. But he knew he was judging the man, for having quit something that Bitter-Root felt had made him stronger.

He also knew he didn't know this man anymore than Dhatri had known him when he'd given him a chance. And Bitter-Root would let this man prove himself before he made any snap judgments.

"Take care of her."

"She's my partner," was all the man said and really, all Bitter-Root needed as assurance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Mensa' is Spanish for stupid.  
> Updated a bit.  


	7. All That A Heart Should Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boone couldn’t afford to get attached. Six didn’t want to.

Boone wasn’t surprised that the Courier began acting differently around him after that conversation. What he wasn’t expecting was to feel disappointed. 

She talked less, but he first assumed that was because of the night she had; meeting old faces and getting some of her past back - that would do a number on anyone.

Especially when he remembered all those times she had stopped to look at the bulletins at the new settlements they reached. He hadn’t asked her, hadn’t known that she’d had no memory to speak of as neither of them had gone too far into their pasts. But now he figured she had always been trying to find herself.  

She might have a lot on her mind. Even her conversations with ED-E were affected, almost wooden.

But when she kept averting her eyes where she would normally make direct eye contact, he knew it was more than that. She didn’t bump into him when they were walking in the morning, when the silence stretched too long between them and she wanted to get his attention. She didn’t comment about his preference for Sunset Sarsaparilla over water as she passed out drinks to wash down the jerky they ate on the road.

 _You sure you wanna drink that? No sure I can handle you being any sweeter than you normally are_ _,_ she’d tease, her eyes bright, her grin unapologetic. He’d shake his head at her, getting a small laugh in return.

He hadn’t realized how normal it had become for her to be so familiar with him, until she wasn’t.

He let it be at first; didn’t question it, didn’t bother her about it. That’s what they had gotten used to already, anyway.

But as the day continued in this way, his thoughts strayed to Carla, as they inevitably would. He never told Carla about Bitter Springs. He had tried, a part of him wanting to and knowing he should. But he had also wanted to forget, and she was the only one he was able to do that with. It was one of the things he loved about her. So he never did.

He knew he couldn’t hide from it anymore, though. Thinking he could walk away from all he had done, from all the blood on his hands, had been a mistake he wouldn’t make again. He wanted to warn the Courier so that when his time came as he expected, she would know. So she could be ready. He felt he owed her that at least.

He believed she should continue the work they were doing; she was good at it and people like her were needed in the wasteland.

He told himself that he was glad in retrospect that she and that Followers’ doctor had made such a great connection. He'd heard them talking, after she got a little better, saw how much she enjoyed being in his presence. If her behavior around the doctor was any indication, Gannon wouldn’t be able to give her what she had wanted from him. But he would be a great companion for her to continue her journey with, nonetheless. And with ED-E to back them up...

She would need that if something happened to him soon.

“Six,” he finally said, catching her attention.  She had sent ED-E to scout ahead while they took a break on the side of the road, leaning against a ruined building near the edge of Freeside, enjoying the shade it provided.

“Hmm?” She was chewing on a broc flower petal because she didn't like the taste of the jerky, the metallic tang of the water in her canteen not sufficient to get rid of the flavor. She offered him one as well that she removed from her bag, but she wouldn't look at him directly. Her head was turned and her attention was in her satchel as she adjusted the placement of something inside. He had glimpsed the inside a few times, knew how many things she carried in there, so he wouldn't normally think she was purposely avoiding him. Today, he knew she was.

“We need to talk.”

She didn't say anything for a moment, continuing to avert her face. The relief he felt when she nodded and looked up at him was quickly replaced by confusion when he saw the nervous look in her eyes.

“... I think we need to go to Bitter Springs,” she finally said, the reason becoming clear.

He immediately shuttered up, feeling almost angry at her suggestion, the blood draining from his face. “What for?”

“It might help you.” She was still hesitant, but she wasn't looking away, at least.

“How? It won't change anything.” There was no point in going.

She shrugged, but this time when she looked at him her eyes were serious. And curious, if a bit guarded. “Craig… how long has it been since Carla… since she died?”

He debated not answering, because this was a conversation he did not want to have with her. With anyone.

As if sensing his discomfort, she spoke again in a different tone. He recognized it; it was the one she used when she went to Cottonwood Cove, trying to reason and get her point across. “The better we know each other, the better we’ll be together... The better team we'll be out here.”

He wanted to deny that, since they didn’t talk about any of this before and they had worked out pretty well together so far. He wondered why she wanted to change the rules all of a sudden.

He didn’t want to think about it, to count back because it made him realize how many long days he had continued going on without her. He couldn't forget, but he wanted to stop thinking about it.

But he shouldn't have been surprised.

_Fuck._

He closed his eyes, let out a deep breath. He needed a cigarette.

“Four hundred thirty three days, give or take…”

“Shit…” she winced tellingly, before looking a little appalled. He wondered who that look was for; him for still lingering on it or herself for asking him.

“It’s… not ok,” he admitted, shrugging. “But it’s become bearable. Something I’m getting used to.”

She looked at him carefully, her eyes still guarded. “You’ve gotten used to… what?”

“Being alone.”

He was almost able to catch her reaction before she turned her face towards her boots, hiding her expression. He frowned at her, a little insulted. “I don’t want your pity, Six.”

Her head shot up again, her face reddening. Her face always gave her away, he had noticed. She couldn’t hide herself, wearing her heart on her sleeve, whether she was angry, happy or embarrassed.

She was nothing like Carla.

Carla always seemed to know how to react, what to say. She always knew where to take him when they were on the Strip, her smile knowing and a little wicked as they made their way through the casinos, enjoying the drinks and the music. Her eyes were always brilliant in the lights, her smile something to behold. She had shown him a different world, he had been a different person when he was with her, one where his guilt and self-loathing weren’t a part of him.

“I’m not pitying you, you dolt.” She protested, staring at the floor. But her voice became contrite. “I… just wasn’t aware it was still so painful for you and I’m sorry I brought it up.”

He let her sweat it out, not sure if she was being completely honest. He was better off alone, for the remainder of his existence. He considered it the truth, as sad as it might sound to her. He knew that’s what she felt when he told her. But he also knew she didn’t mean anything hurtful with her reaction.

As the war with Caesar loomed, he knew his end would be coming soon. He knew he would get into the thick of it once Caesar’s Legion broke through in enough numbers to finally call the NCR’s full attention. Right now he was doing what he could to get the NCR to focus on the real threat they were becoming by doing the odd jobs with her, helping where needed. They were cleaning out the general annoyances that were slowly threatening the peace the NCR needed here and brokering alliances where they could. The safer New Vegas and Freeside were, the more all of them could focus on keeping Caesar out of the Mojave.

There was no stopping the war that was coming anymore, though.

And he didn’t want to put another person through the pain he’d gone through from losing Carla. He would die in the war, if not sooner. He knew this.

She continued looking uncomfortable so he relented. “I’ll think about it.”

When ED-E returned they continued on their way, heading towards the NCR sharecropper farms where they were hoping to stay the night.

 

* * *

 

Six felt like a selfish ass. A selfish ass with a whole lot of fuzzy feelings when it came to her partner.

It hit her when she had woken up on him, the sound of his heartbeat reassuring under her aching ear. She had laid on the ear too long, the blood flow interrupted. But instead of moving, she had only turned her head slowly, so as not to wake him or let him know she was awake, her eyes remaining closed.

She wanted to lay there for as long as she possibly could, breathing in his reassuring smell. Cigarettes and a whiff of her hair were now on his shirt but if she breathed deeper… she pressed her nose a little closer, the scent of his body coming through. It caused an ache to spread through her and settle deep in her middle, the feeling pooling between her legs.

Her eyes shot open at that, her body tensing. All of the stray, traitorous thoughts she had had about Boone came to the forefront of her mind and the rest of her body reacted, beginning to tingle all over.

She wouldn’t deny that he intrigued her. She just didn’t think her interest had gotten this strong. This was different, her senses picking up everything about him; the smell of him, the sound of his deep, even breathing, the feel of him. She was acutely aware of the strength of his chest beneath her, the heaviness of his arm on her lower back, the press of their bodies.

She stirred, turning her face up to look at him. His beret still covered his eyes, but she focused on the line of his jaw, the shape of his mouth, wondering how hers would fit there.

Then she remembered what he had told her last night. How much trauma seemed to weigh on him.

And she realized she was being a selfish ass.

She needed to get her feelings for him out of the way so she could focus on his fatalistic view. If he was so willing to accept death…She didn’t know what to do about that, how to even approach it. Especially when they were putting themselves in danger nearly everyday.

Early morning light was barely filtering in and it looked like the tent was empty. The sounds of the rest of the contingent beginning their morning exercises reached her ears as she remained where she was. She knew she should’t get attached to the feel of his body against hers. But she enjoyed it while she could.

He needed to talk about it. That would be a start. She just wasn’t sure how to get him to begin when it was still so difficult for them to open up to each other. It wasn’t going to be easy and it would probably be painful, she realized. But it needed to be done.

Straightening slowly,  pulling herself out from the hold he had on her she got up, gathering her discarded jacket and beret off the floor. She turned away from him as he slowly awoke, keeping her attention on everything but his face, her eyes focusing on his mouth of their own accord, wondering once again at what could happen if she…

She shook her head to herself, using the movement to loosen what remained of her braid and brushing it out with her fingers, knowing she was in trouble here and wondering if she could get herself out of it.

 

* * *

 

He kept his word and thought about what she said, considering what pros there were, if any.

He remembered when he finally felt like he wasn’t heading into the grave straight after Carla. The first few months, he’d been such a drunken mess. He had been a terror to the whole town one way or another; they had all seen him at his lowest. After he had found her and made the decision to take her out before she could suffer the fate of a slave, for their kid to have to survive that…

It was a small miracle that Manny didn’t try to kick his ass more than that one time, if he was being honest.

But he had eventually come out of it. Months later, he had woken up one day, still drunk but conscious enough to realize that his arm was throbbing and had been what had woken him up. He needed help, the amount of blood on his carpet alarming and he was lucky to make it to the town doctor. He had cut himself up pretty bad, not sure when until he saw the broken mirror on the bathroom floor.

He still wouldn’t have cared then, probably continuing in this pattern until he didn’t wake up one day, if it hadn’t been for Daisy Whitman.

Finding him in the small tented clinic near the gas station when she came in to get a shot of Rad-Away after her recent scavenging trip to REPCONN, she had looked at him with a calculating gaze after seeing the bandages on his arm, near his wrists.

He knew how it had looked to her. He hadn’t cared enough to correct it either.

She sat there on the bed next to his, studying him, both of them sitting in the awkward silence hooked up to their respecting IVs. When her Rad-Away was almost empty, she began speaking.

“Craig... Carla would be appalled that this is how you have been behaving, that this is how you’ve conducted yourself with her gone,” she opined quietly but forcefully, her voice never rising.

And she was right, he realized. It was like cold water being poured over him; a kick in the seat, how guilty he felt that he had forgotten. Carla wouldn’t have liked what he had become. She would've detested that he had become a lost cause, slowly fading into nothingness. She hated that self-destructiveness he had slowly been spiraling into, had insisted he leave the NCR because of it.

When the doctor suggested he clean up after that incident, he decided to do it. Instead of whiling his days away in misery, what remained to him was finding out who had sold his wife out to the Legion slavers.

But months passed with him not able to get a good enough lead on any one person.

And then Six had come along.

He glanced at her, his eyes traveling to where she was sitting on her bedroll near the lamp, legs crossed with a magazine on her lap. She was worrying her bottom lip with her upper teeth, and he noticed after a while that she didn’t turn the page, her gaze not moving from the print and the diagram, her mind obviously miles away.

They were bunking outside near one of the green houses, preferring to sleep in the slight breeze instead of indoors, the night being an especially hot one. It was unseasonably warm, the days almost stretching into February and they had gotten used to the colder nights.

But she had removed her duster and her leather jacket, sitting in her dark undershirt, the heat making them all sweat. She had pinned her braid up, loose strands sticking to her neck in the heat. She had a graceful neck, he noted, his eyes traveling the length of it, lingering over the small nick she had on the juncture of her collar bone, healing already, the skin new and pink.

He had the sudden urge to taste her there. To place his mouth on the glistening skin on the curve of neck and shoulder and slowly make his way up. He wanted to see how she would react to him doing so. Then eventually he’d travel down...

He almost groaned, looking away, his focus back on the clips he was refilling, the ammo spread before him. Why he was thinking all of these things about her now, he couldn’t say. But he knew he needed to put a stop to it immediately.

Worse than the death that awaited him would be to lose someone he let himself care about again. He didn’t think he would survive it a second time, it would be a straight bullet through his head if it came to that. There would be no stopping him this time.

Although, even those were not absolute anymore, he thought. His eyes went to the scar she kept hidden by braiding her hair towards the right side of her head, covering most of it.

The Courier somehow seemed to defy the odds, he thought with some trepidation. He shouldn't think of it like that, but it wasn't just that she survived a bullet through her head. It was what she had done at Cottonwood Cove. What she had done for those people at Primm, and Goodsprings. The jobs she had done for the NCR.

The Courier could change things, he was starting to realize. He just wasn’t sure how to feel about that when it came to his personal life.

He continued filling their ammo clips, the silence remaining between them.

 

* * *

 

When they finally arrived onto the Strip, the necessary caps in hand, her arrival was expected, much to her annoyance.

“Howdy, partner! Fancy seeing you here.”

Six wasn't amused; she had been in an exponentially fouler mood since they left the McCarran yesterday. “Really? I thought you were not-so-secretly leading me here Victor.”

“Not sure what you mean there, but I gotta say it's good to see you made it to New Vegas. And ain't she a beaut!” The Courier waited, knowing more was coming as the securitron wasn't here just to make idle small talk with her. “Ya know, since you're here an’ all, you might want to mosey yourself up to the Lucky 38 and meet the boss. He’d like a moment of your time.”

And he didn't disappoint.

 

* * *

 

When Six saw Victor again after walking out of the Lucky 38, she wanted to punch a hand through his happy cowboy face in frustration.

She had been used, just like she suspected. And she was still being used, House not telling her the rhyme or reason for the stupid platinum chip she had been hired to carry. She didn't like it one bit. But she did come out with some very exciting information.

She marched across the strip towards Gomorrah with purpose, sidestepping an NCR soldier who was currently spilling the contents of his stomach onto the cracked pavement.

She was in the process of checking her weapons in at the front desk when her party found her, leaving the poker table when they saw her arrive. She briefly wondered if ED-E could help her count cards, but she stopped that thought in its tracks, knowing it would just get them both in trouble.

“How’d it go?” Boone wondered, all of them stopping outside the casino and huddling in a circle.

“We have somewhere to stay while we're here,” she began, deciding to start with the good news. “House is letting us use the suite until our business is over.”

“What’s the job?”

Her eyes were cold when she looked up at him, her grin feral, the curve of her lips slow but sure. She finally had something she could sink her teeth into, get her mind off her current dejection. "We're going to the Tops to meet an old friend of mine. I shouldn’t keep him waiting anymore."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost there. I think this is going to be nine chapters instead of eight. Not completely sure yet.  
> Hope you enjoyed. Please let me know what you think. :)


	8. He’s An Outlaw Loose and Running

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Courier prepares to meet with her antagonist, knowing Benny is bad news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Joana and Courier introductory dialogue is quoted straight from the game, and so are some Benny/Courier lines. Full credit is given to its original source: Fallout New Vegas.  
> 'Tis a long one, this chapter.

Despite her words, Six waited.

The chances of getting close to Benny without causing him to lose his shit and try to take her out on sight, or worse, try to make a run for it, were pretty slim once she got a better idea of what they were dealing with. She did _not_ want to have to track him down again.

They agreed it would be better and more discreet to enter the Tops separately; Boone first, Six following with ED-E after. And once Six found a table to sit on, ED-E floated away slowly, getting a better view of the doorways and Chairmen in each shadowed corner.

Six studied him from afar, not close enough to get a good look at his face and preferring to remain unseen. He was the only one wearing a checkered jacket, the other Chairmen sporting solid colored suits. She marveled briefly at his arrogance; that he traipsed from Goodsprings to New Vegas after stealing from House and leaving her for dead with the same clothes on, attention grabbing as they were. The gall of him.

Not that she was complaining; it's how she'd been able to track him this long. It just bordered on stupid.

She kept a careful study of his guards, his Chairmen, four always surrounding him at any one time. She wondered if he’d always been this paranoid or if it was a recent thing; if he had a conscience that ate him up at night, forcing him to lay awake in the dark. She figured his purpose in trying to kill her was to tie up loose ends, but what was the endgame? What was the purpose of the chip? If she could get him alone...

Pulling Sunny’s hat low, she kept her face hidden, just another wastelander spending her caps at a poker table to anyone bothering to look. She ordered a drink, warming her breath with the sweetened cocktail, something with mesquite honey in it as she witnessed a potential opening.

A blonde in a sparkly little dress approached the Chairmen, their careful perimeter broken momentarily to let the woman through. Her hair was short and coiffed, her lips a bright red. She looked pretty from afar, leaning into Benny’s open arm, kissing his smiling cheek before her mouth was at his ear, his arm tightening around her waist. Six saw her slip a key into his hand that then went to his pocket before he pressed a kiss onto her upturned lips and slipped something into her cupped hand. All of this done smoothly enough, it was probably rote.

The blonde lingered there before she finally pulled away and turned, the Chairmen once again breaking ranks to let her through.  The woman’s path to the exit brought her near Six as she sauntered through and Six was able to make out the bruises on the woman’s bare neck, the love marks. She noticed the way the other men eyed her on her way out, their eyes almost an assault. She also saw the way the blonde returned some of those looks, focusing on the ones in the suits lounging at the poker tables and ignoring the ones that looked like they came from the surrounding settlements in their wastelander outfits.

She wasn’t Benny’s girl, not really. Not when somebody else hired her, it seemed.

Draining her glass, Six cashed out and re-holstered her weapons at the front desk as the first threads of a plan began coming together in her head.

 

* * *

 

She didn’t tell the others what she was planning. Not yet, not when she was still trying to figure out all the details. As it was, she wasn’t sure what they were thinking as she approached a group of prostitutes in the Gomorrah courtyard, heading outside past the peep show starting on the stage of the Brimstone club.

The women outside were dressed in short little nighties, dancing to the music playing out of a couple of radios littered around, some of them preoccupied with customers already. Six tried not to stare at the couple directly ahead of her sitting on the stone lip on the edge of the fountain. Her eyes glimpsed a hand disappearing into one of those very short nighties as the woman began moaning.

“You wanna let us in on what we’re doing here?” Boone wondered, his tone surprisingly calm as he turned a questioning look on her.

She turned her back on the courtyard, welcoming the distraction. “Did you count the number of Chairmen on the floor?” She tried to block out the sounds the woman was making, wishing the radios were closer, the soulful voice of Helen Forrest singing about a boy was not nearly loud enough.

“Yeah, there were too many. We might have to catch him outside of the Tops.”

“Hn, something tells me that if he has four goons with him on his own turf, he’s not gonna leave them behind when he steps out in the open,” she muttered, her tone annoyed, tugging the ends of her hair in frustration. “Remember, this asshole had four Khans with him up until Boulder City.”

He gave a nod of agreement but his questioning look remained. “So what, you plan on hiring a prostitute for him?”

“No, fuck him, he doesn’t get a screw on my dime.” She continued frowning, but slowly, her expression became resolute. “We’re just gonna... ask some questions. Or, _I_ am. You don’t have to stay if you don’t want. Go gamble if you’d like or go have a few drinks. Victor knows to let you guys into the suite whenever you want.”

Eyes determined, she turned back to the courtyard. She had a man to confront; she needed to grow a pair and figure out how to get him alone.

She approached one of the dancers, a brunette with a ponytail whose expression brightened when she saw the Courier, a smile tugging on her darkly painted lips. “Well, what do we have here, huh? Let me guess. You’ve heard about the mistress who makes all your fantasies come true. So you’ve followed the call of your desires… all the way to the arms of Joana, _moi_.” Her voice was playful and bubbly, her tone inviting. “Now that you’ve found me, I wonder, do you have what it takes?”

Six returned the smile, recognition coming quick, a jolt of affection hitting her at the sight of Joana’s face. With arms crossed in front of her, she took in Joana’s full, flushed face, her curvy figure under the scrap of delicate cloth she was wearing, plump in all the right places. She picked up on these details even though she wasn’t completely sure why. But she trusted her gut, so she allowed herself to play along, her smile turning wicked. “I always have what it takes.”

“Oh, confident,” Joana purred but her smile remained amused. “I like that. So, what do you want to do with what you’ve got?”

“The better question is what are ‘you’ going to do with it,” Six returned, her own voice low and suggestive. She knew without looking that eyes were on them from all the Omertas watching the merchandise. She didn’t want to get Joana in trouble if she didn’t need to.

But Joana sounded delighted, “Oh my, aren’t you something else…!? I guess you’ll have to see for yourself what I can do, huh? Consider it on the house, honey.” She paused, her eyes roaming over Six’s shoulder. “The robot’s gonna cost you, though. And I don’t do threesomes, you and your sniper are going to have to take turns.”

Had their surroundings been different, Six would have burst out laughing, picturing the look on Boone’s face as ED-E began beeping behind her in protest. Instead, she continued smiling, “ED-E’s off limits, gorgeous, but please, lead the way.”

“Follow me, hon.”

Keeping her eyes away from Boone’s sputtering expression, she reached behind her and tugged on his hand as Joana turned and began walking away. And Boone, bless his heart, didn’t question her. Not until they made it through the courtyard, up to the second floor and down the hall to the farthest door. Her ears caught the barely muffled sounds of pleasure coming out of the other rooms they passed on the way to Joana’s and she had to admit, she was impressed. He was handling this better than she was. Given their surroundings, was she really surprised that a rogue part of her wondered if he would spank her for what she was doing, under different circumstances?

Stunned, she shut her eyes momentarily, wishing she could bury her face in her hands, she couldn’t _believe_ her thought process sometimes. She wanted to hide from what that particular thought was doing to her.

As soon as the door closed behind them, he pulled out of her grip and she saw that his ears were pink and he was practically fuming. She knew her face was probably red; she felt it burning still and she was grateful for the darkness of the room.

“I had to keep her cover. They won’t let us talk to her while she’s on the clock.”

The grim line of his mouth didn’t retreat, but he reached into his pocket for a crumpled pack of cigarettes, letting out a sigh. He turned to Joana before bringing out his lighter. “You mind if I smoke here?”

“Not if you share,” Joana said with a smile, reaching for the cigarette he offered and leaning forward so he could light it for her. She took a deep drag and exhaled, before her gaze returned to Six. Her eyes grew worried. “Where have you been Jun? We thought you were due back over a month ago.”

The room only had the giant heart-shaped bed and a couple of chairs near a rickety table at the far end to sit on. Not trusting where her mind had been taking her, she sat on the edge of one of the chairs. Joana sat on the bed while Boone remained standing, leaning against the wall. She felt more than saw ED-E floating near her head.

Looking at her hands for a moment, Six finally asked. “How do we know each other, Joana? Did we… uh… were we intimate?” She momentarily questioned why she had dragged Boone and ED-E into the room with her. But she couldn’t keep the nagging thought of Sunny or even Betsy out of her head, wondering what it was with her and women. She couldn’t think of the last time a man had even looked at her twice.

But Joana merely giggled and thankfully, the mirth was not mocking or mean. “What’s gotten into you, Jun? You’re my savior but no matter how many times I offered, you always said no.” Her look became puzzled. “What happened to you? Are you ok?”

“I was ambushed on the way to my delivery and got a head injury. Suffered some brain damage and forgot everything.” She tried to smile reassuringly at Joana’s pained look. “I remember you, though. Not details, but I know you’re someone I was friends with.”

“More than friends, Jun. You’re everything to me, other than Carlitos. You saved my life. I was strung on Med-X when you met me and you helped me get off it last time you were here. You got rid of Cachino, too. All the girls owe you for that, that fucker was one sadistic son of a bitch and we’ve all been better off since he’s been gone.”

“Oh… that’s good,” Six said with a small smile, feeling some relief. Joana seemed to be doing well if her healthy appearance was any indication; she didn’t look like she had suffered through a chem addiction, at least not anymore. But then her gaze sharpened and she sat up a little in her chair, her posture at full attention. “When was I here? What was I doing?”

“It was about six months ago last time you were here. You were on leave between jobs, holed up in one of the rooms at Vault 21 for a couple of weeks before I met you. We were both at the Brimstone one night and I got off early. You were alone, drinking but you were tipping well and you were being nice to the girls, just keeping to yourself.” She smiled at the memory, taking another drag and exhaling slowly. But then she became somber, her eyes becoming troubled as they rested on the Courier. “You weren’t good, hon. Something happened that you didn’t wanna talk about. But I kept you company while you drank most of the night, until you almost blacked out. You were hell bent on forgetting, whatever it took... Then Cachino started sniffing around you when he saw the state you were in. So I convinced him you had already paid me for the night and I brought you up here. I didn’t want him to rough you up.”

Six felt herself soften at the other woman. “Thanks for looking out for me.”

“Oh Jun, even as drunk as you were… Had I known how deadly you were with that knife you had managed to sneak in, I might have let him try. You could have killed him that first night for trying to lay a hand on you.” She giggled again, the idea amusing. “But we became friends, out of that night and we’d get together when I had days off. I never had a friend like you, I think I told you that before. You were so nice, to me, to the other girls, but you could be mean as a dog when you were pissed. You showed me what I should do if anyone approached me the way Cachino did again, gave me my own holdout knife.” She took another drag, her smile disappearing.  When she looked at the Courier again, her eyes were large and dark with emotion. “But as much as that helped, I was always so desperate to shoot up, honestly, that sometimes it didn’t matter what Cachino did to me, so long as he let me have more. One night, you and I were supposed to meet up, have dinner and watch a show at the Tops, but I over did it with the Med-X... My heart was failing from the overdose and he just left me here... You were able to get a doctor out here after you did some fast first aid and the doctor told me later that if you hadn't given me that shot of psycho, I might have died.” Six noticed the way Joana’s hand shook as she flicked the ash off on the ashtray balanced on her bed. “You asked him to clean me up. The doctor wouldn't do it, not without my agreement, but after you saved me…”

She finished her smoke, put it out. When Boone offered her another one, she took it gratefully. “I gave up Med-X but I can't give these up,” she said with a laugh, a little of the tension leaving the room at the lighthearted sound. But she pushed the cigarette behind her ear, leaving it there for later use as she stood and went to the small cooler she had in the room. “After you saved me, I wanted to clean up,” she continued, looking at the contents inside. “It’s been hard, but I’ve been off the stuff ever since.”

She came out with a beer for each of them, removing the caps and throwing them in a jar she had next to the cooler.

Six took hers and sipped slowly, her eyes following Joana. “And I left because I got a job?”

“Mm-hmm. You got a message from the Mojave Express, a call for a job open to a group of couriers. You said you were running low on caps and being parked in one place too long wasn’t your way anyway, so you packed up but promised to stop by again before the new year.”

“And I was staying at Vault 21 while I was here?”

“Far as I know.”

“I was by myself?”

“Mm-hmm.”

The Courier sat back in her chair, turning over each bit of information in her mind for any familiarity and finding none. She took another gulp, her tone curious. “Did I tell you anything about myself?”

“You mentioned a sister.”

She immediately sat up at this. “What did I say?”

“That she’s younger than you and was accepted to study at the Boneyard with the Followers. She was so much better than you, you’d always say.” Her look and tone clearly conveyed what she thought of that.

Unfortunately the words still triggered nothing, but that was more information than she started with this morning. And if that were the case, maybe her sister was safe and sound in California, away from whatever trouble Six had managed to get entangled in.

They drank in silence for a while. Once Six was done with her beer, she placed the empty bottle down on the table and glanced at Joana again. “Would you be able to get me some info on which of the girls go to the Tops? Is it a usual group?”

“Not the same set, but those Chairmen like to spend good caps on their experience. They like them to look the part; no nighties, no bondage gear. They want the classy looking broad so the ones that have the right dresses as part of their wardrobe usually get the gigs.”

“Have you gone?”

“A couple of times. Swank is nice and he likes to talk to a pretty face, if info’s what you're looking for,” she shared with a smile, seeming to understand where Six was going with this. Her eyes became a bit devious as they went to her wardrobe on the other wall. “I also have a dress that might be perfect if you’re interested in getting in another way. I wear it with a holdout holster you can borrow as well. They won't see it and they _won’t_ search you in the dress, trust me. I never leave Gomorrah without a holster anymore, makes me feel safe.”

Six was very proud that this young woman was someone she could call her friend and that she seemed to remain positive after everything she had lived through.

Her smile wavered however as the sounds of someone being serviced began reaching them, the man’s moaned instructions slowly becoming louder until none of them could pretend they hadn’t heard him or the sound of the mattress squeaking.

As if reading her mind, Joana shook her head slightly, chiding her. “Don’t look at me like that, Jun. I told you I was getting out of here, and I am. Carlitos is working on something and it won’t be long now, you’ll see. I’m just glad I got to see you before we left the Strip behind us.”

And with that hopeful news between them, Joana got up and fetched them all another round, turning the radio on the dresser on.

 

* * *

 

They left Joana after the allotted hours had passed, feeling decidedly more relaxed as they stepped out of her room into the evening heat. The darkened courtyard was lit up with domed lights spaced strategically apart to allow pockets of privacy near the cabanas. They had emptied out Joana’s cooler and Six had reimbursed her for that, but those were the only caps Joana would accept. She let Six take the dress, which the Courier had placed gently in her satchel, her eyes lingering on the sparkly red material. A thigh holster followed, delicate enough that when worn on her upper thigh, it would not show depending on how she placed her weapon. She had asked that Joana let her know when the Tops was looking for girls for the higher ups, Benny being the leader of the Chairmen and Swank being second in command; she needed to get close to one of them if she was going to get anywhere.

Knowing she wasn’t going to be very productive that night, she opted to return to the Lucky 38, to have a bath and wash the desert and travel and battles off in the luxury of running water.

Boone finally broke the silence as they walked towards the casino, the lights of the Strip in the evening keeping her eyes occupied. “What’s the plan?”

“Not sure yet. I might go to Swank, I might go to Benny directly... I’m not sure if he’ll recognize me right away, to be honest, and the first objective is to get close enough to him before he can run off. House mentioned the importance of appearances around here, it’s why he can’t send his Securitrons in to retrieve his stolen property in the first place. So Benny might run if he sees me coming, or he might not. He might pull a gun on me but I’m guessing he’ll only do that if I attack first. The point is to get close enough to try to talk to him. Once I’m close enough...” she trailed off, knowing that if he went completely off script and attacked her she would be forced to kill him and claim self-defense but still probably end up dead within seconds. But she also knew that she would have to decide what to do with him if she was able to get him alone. Her only chance was if she got him alone. “I need to modify my 10 millimeter. I should be able to sneak it in along with my knife.”

“We should go over your close combat technique before you try to meet him, then.”

She quirked an eyebrow at him as they neared the door to the Lucky 38, “You any good, sniper? Not that I doubt that you know how to defend yourself, I just can’t picture you letting someone get close enough that you have to scrap with ‘em.”

“They taught us what we needed to know to finish the job,” he asserted; not a boast, just quiet confidence.

“Not sure how House will like it that we’re going to make one of his mint condition rooms our new training floor, but what the heck - not like he’s roaming the halls,” she mused as the elevator dinged and they climbed in. She was sure her nerves were on edge because of how close she was to getting Benny.

“Let’s see if you have what it takes, as you like to boast,” Boone challenged, his tone low and half teasing. But the challenge was there, nonetheless.

She forced herself to swallow her nervousness as her earlier conversation with Joana came back to haunt her.

 

* * *

 

Six tried the dress on in the privacy of the master bedroom she had claimed as her own. The dress was too long, something she would have to fix because the longer the dress was, the harder it was for her to reach her weapon in the thigh holster. The dress needed to remain short, uncomfortably so. She wore it every night for a couple of hours, right after she had her bath, until she got used to it. Until she knew how much she could move around in it without revealing her weapon prematurely. It wasn’t much, her movements restricted, but she grew comfortable with it. The shoes were another matter, the low heels were murder on her feet, but she was able to wear them for about thirty minutes straight without feeling too uncomfortable by the end of the week. She would kick them off if necessary once she was closer to her target.

She worked on her gun and ammo, adding a silencer to her 10 millimeter and crafting some hollow points, none of the chairman wearing any armor. She had twelve rounds and she needed to make each count.

She also began training with Boone, which was both educational and highly uncomfortable at times. He would have to attack her, so she could demonstrate what she knew and when she did, they landed in some awkward positions. She tried not to notice, but sometimes…

“Get your ass outta my face, Six.”

“You asked me to disarm you!” But she crawled off, the knife she’d taken from him in her hand, trying not to laugh even though her face was burning. After four days, she was starting to anticipate his opening move better. He realized this as well, adjusting once again and they began circling, Six unable to contain her excitement. She had come to really enjoy this despite the tension. She liked that he tested her and that she tested him; it made them better. She had come to find that she was lacking a little in the upper body strength area, but that she was fast, her agility pretty high and they focused on getting her to use that to her advantage.

She realized she would have to leave her pip-boy behind, which was the most uncomfortable aspect about her outfit once she put it all together. Without it, she felt truly naked.

 

* * *

 

ED-E began beeping next to her as the elevator began lurching up the twenty two floors to their suite. They were just returning from a supply run, laden with scrap and ammo and weapons to break down.

“You think my odds are better if I get to Swank first?” She wasn’t surprised; just in need of more details.

But Boone thought she was doubting. “You should listen to the eyebot.”

Her brows raised in surprise. “Come on, really? You familiar with the term turncoat?”

“You should trust his perception; it’s better than both of ours.”

ED-E chirped, and Six grinned, turning to Boone. “He said you’re a close second, according to his sensors. High compliment in my opinion.”

“Well on that note; where are you going to want us when you head to the Tops?”

She hesitated, looking at him out of the corner of her eye. “Craig…”

“Don’t start, Six--”

“None of us will be safe if I get caught and if that happens, it will only be me. No collateral!”

“You’re not leaving us behind--”

“Fine, you can be there, but you _can’t do anything_! If Benny attacks me, he attacks me only, alright? You don’t give yourselves away! You have to give me your word!” They were both glaring at each other, with Six finally muttering, “We don’t stand a chance against the whole casino. If I fall, I fall alone. This is my beef, no one else’s. Your word, Boone.”

He frowned darkly, neither of them moving as the elevator came to a stop with another ding. The doors hissed open and they still didn't move. Not until ED-E floated away, probably bored with them, bumping into her and causing her to lose eye contact.

She immediately glared up at him again, her finger jabbing into his chest. “I mean it, Boone. You will only distract me otherwise.”

She hoped he understood what she meant. If he didn’t agree, she would wonder when he would break rank. She needed him to trust her.

After what seemed like an eternity, he finally nodded.

Grateful, she reached out and gave his arm a squeeze, but she didn’t feel any give in his posture and he didn’t speak to her again that night.

She tried not to take it personally, knowing it was probably beyond her.

 

* * *

 

When Joana finally sent her the message, the Courier was ready, the anticipation simmering underneath her forced calm. The Chairmen were throwing a retirement party the following night and they needed a group of the girls to join them.

She drank by herself in the cocktail lounge of the Lucky 38, a glass of whiskey in her hand and the radio keeping her company. She was dressed in a pair of form fitting denim pants and a worn flannel shirt that was the softest thing she had ever felt, so threadbare it was close to being see through. The flannel might have been red at one point, but it was faded to a barely there rust that looked almost pink from a distance. She had found the clothes in the wardrobe in the master bedroom, the belongings long since abandoned, another two pairs of pants, a sweater and another dress as well, but this was her favorite outfit, the one she felt the most comfortable in other than her road leathers.

ED-E was booting up in the other room, her Pip-boy attached to him by wires, the diagnostics running for the last hour. She was cleaning out the empty files that remained in his drive; they were creating clutter and were an added stressor on his overall system.

She didn’t know where Boone was. He had left earlier, but he was usually back within a few hours so she never worried.

She stared at the sign of the Tops, her blood cold as she thought about Benny inside. She was almost there. And she would kill him. Or he would kill her.

She entertained the idea for a moment, something she didn’t normally let herself do. She thought about what she would be leaving behind, who she would be leaving behind. It was probably a blessing that the list wasn’t too long. She couldn’t feel too sorry for her family missing her. Bitter-Root had been alright and she hoped her sister would be as well.

No, the ones she had in mind were her recent friends; Boone and ED-E and Joana… these were the people that would probably feel her absence the most.

She was grateful for the solitude, indulging in her morose thoughts for the moment. She poured herself another drink and lit a cigarette.

She knew she couldn’t leave them, not like this. She didn’t want to cause any issues with Joana’s rehabilitation. ED-E had barely begun accessing old logs in his memory, bits that his owner had recorded and left behind. She couldn’t know for sure that Boone would be able to continue unlocking them without her. And Boone… she wasn’t sure. She was afraid he would feel guilty that he couldn’t help her more. She just knew her not being there would push him to seek his own demise that much quicker. No one would be there to slow him down.

They deserved better than that. And she would have to survive this.

When Boone returned a couple of hours later, he found her in the cocktail lounge still, but ED-E was floating with her as she twirled by herself to the music of the Nat King Cole. He watched her, bemused for a few seconds, leaning against the doorway until she noticed him there and she stopped, not having heard the elevator ding.

She seemed embarrassed, but not overly so, heading to the bar after a quick hello. She poured him a drink and brought it over, and when he didn’t budge from the doorway, she looked him straight in the eye.

She told him what she had needed to assure herself of a few hours ago. “I’m gonna make it, Craig. I promise I will.”

They both knew it wasn’t certain but the fact that she’d said it and seemed intent on doing just that helped loosen some of the tension he felt coiling. He finally walked with her to look at the view as twilight receded and the city’s bright lights overcame the dark.

 

* * *

 

When the Courier entered the Tops the next night, she came in by herself and let the Chairmen at the front open the door for her.

She had dressed carefully, used to the the cut of the dress, the squeeze of the holster, the cold of her gun against her left inner thigh. She had another holster, around her torso, a sheath for her knife laying there on her chest bone right between her breasts. The sparkly material of the dress had a strategically placed slit there so she could reach it quickly and efficiently. She could dig down the front of her dress, if need be, but that would be awkward and decidedly less discreet. She would ruin the dress but at that point it probably wouldn’t matter anymore.

She had even figured out what to do with her hair, pinning it up in a way that made it seem like an assymetrical bob, the weight of her hair a sweep against her collarbone. Red lips, coiffed hair, sparkly red dress, she looked like a classy broad.

She watched as Swank came around the front desk, his eyes taking her in with appreciation and she smiled prettily, taking the arm he offered her as he lead her into the casino. “Baby, you are 18 karat gold! Platinum, baby! You let Swank show you a good time, doll face, all you gotta do is sit pretty. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before, though. You new?”

“Brand new,” she murmured with a wink before she glanced around the floor quickly. _Where was he?_

She felt a hand land on the small of her back, another gently pull her grip away from Swank before she was turned and folded towards a new body. Her eyes widened as she saw the checkered pattern in front of her nose before she heard the voice, wondering how her luck could be _this_ good. “Swank, I keep telling you you need to get your eyes checked, old man. This kitten was obviously sent for me, yours is coming with the group I just saw heading over here.”

She remained calm, but she knew she couldn’t keep the cold anger out of her eyes as she looked up at him, her hands caught between them.

The smile he had on his face faltered as he looked down at her, as he took in her face. His eyes widened in recognition. “What in the goddamn...?”

“Hello, Benny.” Her voice was tightly controlled; low, almost inviting.

“You’re _alive?_ How is that possible? _”_ His arm tightened around her, his voice almost a whisper as if he realized he could be heard. But he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. They betrayed him, went to her temple, but her scar was hidden by her hair, only the jagged end peeking out.

“Seems you need to work on your marksmanship.”

“I hit what I was aiming for, Jun. Guess you had brains to spare. Or are you just thick-skulled?” His hand didn’t hesitate this time - it brushed her hair aside gently, revealing the scar tissue there.

The gentleness of the touch unnerved her, but she pushed past that.

“I can tell you all about it,” she whispered, getting his attention again. He looked at her, his eyes suspicious. She didn’t break eye contact. “We just need to go somewhere more private.”

His hold loosened a bit as if she had caught him by surprise. His eyebrows were raised but his eyes had darkened as he considered her. She didn’t pull away from him, however, still not breaking eye contact, returning his calculating look as he studied her with equal measure.

“You won’t kill me, Juniper.”

She didn’t like his tone, the assurance there. She finally broke eye contact, leaning up with hands on his chest to reach his ear. She was still speaking softly, aware that she looked like she was a lover whispering promises in his ear. Appearances were maintained, at least. “You don’t know what I have planned for you Benny. I’m here to talk business.”

Benny gripped her from her upper arms, pulling her away so he could smirk down at her, holding her in place as she looked up at him in mild annoyance. “Well, if you’re here on business, it’s a good thing we were never good at keeping business and pleasure separate,  pussycat.”

Her mind was wiped blank when Benny leaned in and kissed her as if he knew how.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is welcome. :)


	9. Make Me Forget My Sorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Courier and Benny.

It was anger that overtook Six finally, spurring her into action after she stood there stunned for a couple of seconds. Her hand slid into his coat pocket and pulled out the gun she had felt earlier, their bodies still close together. His lips left hers when she pressed the cold barrel of it into the flesh of his throat, the design etched on the grip of the semi-automatic biting into the palm of her hand.

Benny immediately tensed, his hands clenching her upper arms reflexively. While he was distracted with the gun at his neck, she slipped her hand down and slid out the 10 millimeter slowly, keeping it low and close to his groin.

“Easy there, Jun--”

“What the fuck lady?!”

“Tell Swank to stand down, Benny.”

Swank hadn’t pulled out a weapon yet, his eyes wide on the gun she held. None of the other Chairmen were close enough to notice them and Benny’s usual retinue were not at attention yet, distracted by the women that had filtered into the casino. Six realized she had a luck on her side right now and she needed to keep rolling with it as far as it would take her.

When Benny didn’t speak up, she pressed the gun tighter against his throat. “We need to talk, Benny. Somewhere private. Now.”

“Jun--”

“Now,” she hissed, her patience and anonymity fleeting. Her eyes not leaving Benny, she spoke to his second in command. “He tell you what he was planning, Swank? How he was going to double-cross House?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Swank look even more surprised before he scowled, his gaze finally on her. “What the hell are you yapping about? Benny, what the fuck is going on?!”

“Lets move, Benny, or I won’t hesitate to maim you,” and she pressed her 10 millimeter into his groin for emphasis.

Benny’s eyes glazed over, the anger leaving them momentarily.She saw his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. He nodded as well as he could with the gun at his neck. “Yeah, but put the guns away - don’t want the whole casino knowin’. Any questions you got, I’ll answer.”

Nodding, she slid her 10 millimeter back in its holster before lowering the gun from his neck and pressing the barrel to his stomach, near where their bodies met. He threw an arm over her shoulder and for a second she thought she would be forced to pull the trigger and expect a quick death herself, but he merely turned her around, heading to where she knew the elevators were.

“Benny, what the fuck man? What’s this broad talking about?” Swank started walking with them, his face still pulled into a grimace, but he looked nervous as well. His eyes kept darting to her questioningly.

“He should come with us,” Six decided, turning to Benny.

“That ain’t happening baby, this is between you an’ me,” Benny told her, some of his old swagger returning. “Hey Swank, go back to the retirement party, will ya? Get the boys a couple of rounds on me. You know where my stash is.”

“He stole from House, Swank. Just remember that and the position he’s putting you Chairmen in.” Six wasn’t going to let him go just like that, looking at him directly this time. “You don’t want House thinking all of you guys were involved, right? As of right now, his attention is only on Benny.”

“Shut your goddamn mouth, Juniper,” Benny muttered, tightening his arm around her. She pushed the gun in deeper as well, warning him, and he glared down at her, baring his teeth a bit. “You wouldn’t dare shoot, doll. The boys will kill you immediately, you know that.”

“I’d still empty half the clip in you before they figure it out and you’ll bleed to death from where I puncture you,” she promised darkly. “And besides, you think House won’t continue hunting you down even if you manage to kill me this time?”

His gaze was angry but she saw the mask come back on as he pushed the button on the elevator, taking a key out of his pocket and putting it into the keyhole on the panel. “Head to the party, Swank. We’ll talk later.”

“Boss, you sure?”

“Yeah, go. Don’t keep the party waiting.”

Swank shook his head but did as he was told, turning to walk away.

“Remember what I told you, Swank,” she called after him.

If worse came to worst, she hoped she had planted enough doubt in him to get Benny turned over to House and shunned by his own tribe. If worse came to _catastrophic_ , Benny would come out of this alive and somehow convince the Chairmen to back whatever insane plot he was cooking up.

The elevator dinged open and as soon as they were in she pulled away, pointing the gun directly at him as he backed away into the opposite wall. The doors were about to close when a hand reached out, pushing them open again. She couldn’t help her smile at the sight of them.

“Hey,” was all Boone said in greeting as he and ED-E crowded into the elevator. He turned to push a button on the panel and the doors slid shut once again.

“I thought this was a private party, pussycat,” Benny said, eyebrows raised as the elevator began climbing.

“What? Don’t like the idea of being outnumbered while a gun is being pointed at you?” Her smile was saccharine as she reached into her holster again and handed Boone her holdout, knowing he only carried a knife with him in the casino. “They’re my insurance. Something happens to me, they’ll take care of you.”

“The rest of the casino will get them.”

“Swank only saw me with you.”

Benny only smirked in response, reaching a hand into his own pocket. He froze when ED-E shot a red beam at the area near his fingers, hitting the wall behind him and leaving a scorch mark on the faded material.

Six chuckled, “ _That_ was a warning. Watch where those hands are going, buddy.”

His shock faded quickly, smirk returning, but it was more vicious this time. He reached into his pocket, defiant still. “Just wanted a smoke, baby, no need to get your panties in a twist.” He pulled a cigarette out, lit it with a hand that didn’t shake. She was suitably impressed, considering two guns and an eyebot were ready to shoot him at the first false move. But then he opened his mouth again. “So you’re rutting with the NCR now, Jun?”

“Careful, Benny. Not sure how familiar you are with NCR units, but Boone here’s former 1st Recon. He knows what he’s doing with a gun.”

His expression became dark again, but it was gone quickly, replaced by his irritating smirk. “Never pictured you as a crawling back on your hands and knees type, but I guess I was wrong. Although, I gotta say... you seemed to know what you were doing when you were on your knees, baby doll.”

“Son of a--”

She was glad she got to him before Boone did, not just because of how good it felt when she punched him. The muzzle of Benny’s fancy 9 millimeter connected with his face hard and fast enough that his body dropped without another word.

Boone huffed out a breath, still glaring at the prone form of the Chairman. “Nice shot.”

She smiled, appreciating the fact that he was insulted for her. But it faded a bit as she glanced at Benny, wondering what had gone on between them… and promptly realized she didn’t want to think on it too much, her nose scrunching in distaste.

The elevator dinged their arrival and she peeked out into the hallway, relieved when it was clear, silently thanking the advent of a retirement party. With a grunt Boone lifted Benny’s dead weight and they quickly made it to the double doors in the middle of the hallway, Six using the key she slipped out of the unconscious man’s pocket. They slipped in and she locked the doors behind them, heading towards the bedroom. Boone tipped him onto the bed while she began looking for anything to restrain him with. Maybe a belt or a couple of his ties...

“Found something.”

She turned from the door she’d been about to open at the other end as Boone pulled out a pair of handcuffs, the drawer on the nightstand open. “... Oh. That’s convenient.”

Boone secured Benny to the bedframe, his wrist at an odd angle as she went through his pockets, looking for any additional weapons. She ran her hands over the area near his chest pocket and felt something else there. Her lips curved as she pulled the platinum chip out.

“You don’t even know what it does, do you Jun?”

She looked up, finding his eyes on her. “No. Care to school me?”

“Not really,” he muttered, glancing at his surroundings. She studied his face with a frown, noting how his gaze went to the door she hadn’t opened before he turned quickly away, looking at her with a grimace. “So what’s the plan, pussycat?”

“You tell me what I need to know and then I never see you again.” She emphasized the last by settling herself on the edge of the bed, her weapon pointed at him once again.

“You won’t shoot me, Jun.”

“So you keep saying. Why wouldn’t I blow your brains out?”

“You didn’t come here for vengeance. You came to get clued in.”

She looked at him, met his eyes before hers went to the area where she’d hit him. It was bruised and bleeding slightly, slowly starting to swell. She had no recollection of him still, not anything before the Goodsprings Cemetery. “How do we know each other?”

If he was surprised by the change in subject, he didn’t show it. “We met at The Aces a few months ago. You did some work for me, little things, said you needed to keep busy.”

“It wasn’t just a working relationship, you said.”

“No… that happened later.” His smile was quick, charming, she was sure, if she didn’t remember with crystal clarity how he had shot her in the head point blank. “I wasn’t gonna say no, baby. You surprised me a little, actually.”

She frowned darkly at him. “Yet you ambushed me with you’re hired goons, had me tied up, left me with no way to defend myself and then you shot me. You didn’t even bother burying me properly, you half-cocked bastard,” she growled, her anger bleeding through.

For a moment, he looked contrite. But it was gone, quickly, his smirk returning. “This is beyond you, baby. No offense, but what I took from you was more valuable than you or the lives of those Khans.”

She wanted to punch him again, just bare-fisted this time. Her hands itched with it.

As if sensing this, he changed his tone, sitting up on the bed as well as he could with his arm pulled up the way it was. “Look Jun, I’ll let you in on the deal. I’ll tell you what you have to do since you have the chip and your little team already and once you come back successfully, I’ll let you in on the plan. You won’t regret it - guaranteed.”

There was no way she was buying into it, but she let him continue, remaining silent.

“All you have to do is take the chip to Fortification Hill and--”

“You want me to go into a Legion camp for you?” She scoffed.

“For New Vegas, baby, not just me. We’re tipping the odds and I’m coming outta this on top. Your best bet is if you’re with me instead of against, you dig?”

“What’s at The Fort?”

“Alright, I’ll tell you more, but loosen the leash a little, will ya?” He looked at his wrist pointedly, but she ignored him. “Fine, be childish about this, kitten. You’re lucky I’m so forgiving. Without me, you’d be just another pawn in House’s game.”

“Like I’m not in yours? Like I haven’t been from the start?”

“I don’t know what you’re thinking, doll, but I didn’t know it was you that ended up with that package when I found out it was moving. That was all you, baby; turned out you drew the short straw on that one. Don’t think I didn’t spend some sleepless nights on it.”

“Spare me. Like you have any semblance of humanity in you, you coward.”

His expression became dangerous as he studied her, his eyes sharp. “Hey, the way I saw it, I was doing the wasteland a favor. The amount of meddling you’ve done, it was probably a good thing someone was finally able to put you in the ground.”

She raised a brow in confusion. “What are you on about?”

“What, you don’t remember that either, pussycat?”

“Say it if you’re going to say something Benny. Stop pussyfooting.”

“You don’t remember what you did to Zion? How the valley was destroyed? How the Burned Man rules there now, because of you, because you decided to start pokin’ around?” His expression was still dark, his voice lowering. “Did you forget what you did to that tribal that followed you out of his home?”

She felt her anxiety building, a cold sweat beading on her forehead. Something was pressing down on her chest, her breathing difficult. Seeing the effect of his words, he continued. “I know what you did, Courier. You told me, that day you got that letter. You helped those tribals abandon their homeland and it was completely destroyed, the tribe almost wiped out in the battle. And now, one of the most beautiful valleys that remained is a shithole where a former Legion legate rules with his tribe. Your hand was all over that.”

She stared at him, her heart constricting. How could she believe him? He could be lying through his teeth to get to her, knowing he was outnumbered and feeling cornered as he probably did. But there was a ring of truth to this, she knew it, she could tell because of the weight that wouldn’t go away. “Whatever you have to tell yourself,” she finally muttered, but she knew she wasn’t fooling anyone.

Benny knew he had something here. “That tribal boy died, Juniper. You were killing yourself over that one, because you convinced him to leave his people. If it wasn’t for you, you’d cried…”

She stood up, turning away from him, knowing her companions had their weapons trained on him as well. She couldn’t look at any of them, her stomach sick, still not knowing the details or the faces or the facts, but recognizing the deep sadness that had been triggered, the guilt that was slowing crushing her.

She had wanted to know, right? This whole time, this had been her goal. Find Benny, get her answers. Get some revenge. Sometimes, one ruled over the other, depending on her mood, but those were always the goals.

But she had always feared this.

She tried to get her breathing under control, knowing she was slowly letting anxiety overtake her. Recognizing it wasn’t the time to dwell on this newly discovered part of her past, she instead focused on the door she had left unopened, her walk purposeful.

“Hey, you got anymore questions?” Benny called after her.

Instead of finding a closet interior as she assumed earlier, she found another room. More barren and with no wallpaper on the walls, the gray dull and thoroughly depressing. She walked in, her eyes drawn to the glowing box of a securitron screen.

“Hey! Hi there, good to meet you! What can I do for you today?”

Luck was still on her side, it seemed. She forgot her earlier mood, her full attention on the robot before her. “Benny stole a Platinum Chip from me. Do you know what it’s for?”

 

* * *

 

It was a _lot_ to process, to be sure. She was growing overwhelmed, the amount of information she had gotten out of Yes Man throwing _everything_ out the window in terms of how she would proceed from here on out.

Benny was playing a dangerous game and she wondered how he possibly thought he would get into The Fort and out alive. She ordered Yes Man to leave the casino through the secret elevator, to wait for her outside. Then she returned to Benny, her voice cold once again. “Looks like I didn’t need you after all.”

He looked nervous, the way he had earlier when she was pointing her gun at his balls. “You don’t know what you’re getting into, Juniper. You need me.”

“Gotta say, I don’t agree.”

“What now?” Boone wondered, his frown still on Benny.

Six approached Benny, lifting the gun she had decided to keep, liking the _Virgen De Guadalupe_ on the pearl grip, thinking her mother would have appreciated it too.

Benny immediately tried to scurry away, as well as he could still handcuffed to the bedpost before Boone grabbed him and pushed him back into his seat. He kept him there as Six brought the gun back up, putting the muzzle to his temple.

She studied him, all the anger she felt burning in her. All she had suffered through, all that she had lost because of his stupid, greedy scheme. She thought of how he had used her trust and her confidence against her just now, knowing instinctively that when she had told him about Zion, she had been at her most vulnerable. Every reason was there for her to even the score, to finish what she had started.

But even all of it wasn’t enough.

Her hand trembled as she held it there, as she urged herself to pull the trigger. _Do it. Do it, end his miserable life. He deserves it, he’s been nothing but a coward, he’ll try to do it again!_ Again and again, without being able to follow through.

After a moment, she lowered the gun, her expression furious. “Let’s go.”

“What?”

“I told you, pussycat.”

She grew tired of it, pointing the gun at his right arm, his shooting arm, and pulling the trigger, aiming at two different areas. She smiled tightly when he cried out in pain, cursing at her under his breath. “Here’s hoping I never lay eyes on you again, you piece of shit. And if you do want to come after me again, you’ll probably need to learn to shoot left handed.”

They left through the front door, stopping at the front desk to leave a message for Swank. He was there, speaking in low tones with a couple of other Chairman. It looked like she had gotten the conversation started after all. She told him everything, leaving Benny’s lighter and cigarette butts as evidence before she walked out of the Tops, leaving Benny in their hands. She hoped they wouldn’t take lightly to traitors.

Not the way she had, she thought with distaste.

“You couldn’t?”

“No.”

But Boone wouldn't let it go. “Why not?”

“... I couldn't be like him.”

“He’ll come back for you. I know his type.”

“Then I’ll deal with him then,” she sighed.

“The way you dealt with him now?” He sounded angry, bitter. She was pretty sure he sounded disappointed as well.

She whirled on him on aching feet, her temper at its limit, her body tense with her emotions spilling over. “Why do you always question me? Why can’t you just _trust_ me? Even now! You said you’d follow me. He was my business, mine to deal with, and this is how I decided to deal with him! _Why_ do you always question me?!”

He seemed exasperated, “I don’t always--”

“But you do!” she interrupted, still hurt and angry. Her hair was coming unbound, some of it hanging loosely down her back, the other half still up. She ran an angry hand through it, loosening it, bobby pins falling as she brushed it out. “Why are we even doing this still if you don’t trust me?” she demanded.

He reached out for her, his hands on her arms, but she pulled away, not ready, still shaking. “I need a walk, I need to think. And you do, too. I don’t know why you stay if you think I’m not doing things right, so figure it out.” The tears were there, she could feel them, but she blinked them away stubbornly. She wouldn’t do this, not now.

She didn’t look at him as she turned and walked away into the loud and still crowded streets of the Strip.

Boone let her go, if only because ED-E floated closely behind.

 

* * *

 

Her feet were what finally forced her to return to the Lucky 38 a few hours later.

She knew she still needed to figure things out. The Platinum Chip and all that it entailed were in every thought she was having, behind all of the conflicting emotions she was feeling. She questioned why she should give it to House, when she had seen Freeside and how little he really cared about the people. If she instead helped the NCR…

But that came with the same problem, didn’t it? The people who needed help in the Mojave would fall through the cracks, the NCR too widespread to mobilize quickly enough.

And Caesar’s Legion was looming.

Vulpes Inculta had already approached her, offering her the Mark of Caesar. She knew the option to use the Platinum Chip was within her reach. But there was so much to decide.

She took the elevator up, hoping that Yes Man would be safe at the abandoned building she had hidden him in in Freeside.

She had tried to prevent her mind from straying to the thought of her partner, and had succeeded, still feeling a little raw about it. But she couldn’t push the thought of him away as she got to the penthouse suite, finding him sitting on the couch in the lobby. She was relieved to note his pack and weapons weren’t waiting there with him, ready to say goodbye.

He stood up as she walked out of the elevator, shoes in hand, her nerves pulled taught. She stopped three feet away from him, in front of her bedroom door and he came to a stop as well, leaving her chosen distance between them. He didn’t look angry, if anything he looked a little concerned.

“You can head to sleep now, Craig. I’m back, sorry to keep you up,” she began, shrugging as she looked away, turning towards her bedroom.

“Six, I need to apologize.”

She looked at him, a little surprised as he took a couple of steps closer. “You don’t, not really. You’re allowed to your opinion, I was just--”

But he silenced her this time, reaching out for her hand, his touch so warm it made her realize how cold her body was coming from outside. He looked at her a moment, as if unsure of what to say.

But then, “You’re a good person, Six. You’re decent, you try to be fair, you’re determined. You’re also stubborn and foolhardy sometimes, but you help people when they need it, when no one else would give them the time of day. I respect that about you. Wanted to apologize that I’ve never told you.”

She felt herself warm up at his words, a small smile on her face. He paused momentarily, his hand reaching up to cup her neck, his thumb resting on the corner of that smile. She felt her breath hitch.

“I trust you,” he said slowly, wanting her to understand. “ I’m behind you, Six.”

She got closer, enough so that they were breathing the same air. She removed his sunglasses as she searched his face, his eyes. They were focused on her, only her, none of the conflicted thoughts clouding them as she had seen before whenever they’d been this close to each other. She was floating, her heart feeling light, all of the bad that happened that day slowly fading away as she accepted his words, his support.

He didn’t back away, either. Instead, his other hand came up and cupped her neck as well, one thumb resting on her pulse point there while the other slowly brushed across her lips, which parted under his touch, her breath exhaling shakily.

She leaned in again, to meet his lips with hers this time. Her own tingled where his thumb had just left them, her eyes closing as he kissed her back, both their mouths open and tasting as she sank into him.

After that, she could only wonder why it had taken her so long to do this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know your thoughts (good, bad, random?).


	10. Only After Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six and Boone and all that still remains.

 

Boone should've pulled back. He knew this but instead he did the exact opposite; snaking an arm around her waist and bringing her closer, the other remained at the nape of her neck. Something clattered to the floor before she wrapped herself around him as well and he backed her into the closed door somewhat roughly, neither of them stopping.

He took in her scent, losing himself in her as he tugged on her hair lightly to angle her head, the kiss becoming more intense. She sighed into his mouth, pulling herself up by her hold on his neck, until he didn't think they could be pressed any closer. He kissed her slowly, heavily, taking his time, savoring the moment - he knew he couldn't let this happen again.

He hadn't been prepared. Not for this, not to have Six walk away after they had argued or how rattled she seemed after her confrontation with Benny. He was not planning on being left behind, leaving her alone to deal with him. She had helped him when he had taken his revenge - it only seemed fitting he be there for hers as well. But a nervous part of him feared that she would send him back to Novac - back to a place he realized he didn't want to return to. He couldn't imagine going back to his life there - not when he had a purpose here. He hadn't been lying to her; he trusted her. He had gotten there slowly, but he did.

A part of him was starting to become afraid, however. Afraid for her, for the enemies she was making. For the changes he knew were coming after all Yes Man had told her. For how much he wanted this _now_ and how he'd betrayed himself because he continued holding her, developing a taste for her. The way she fit against him was seared into him now, he knew it. Everything about this moment was slowly unraveling him and he was tempted, in a way he hadn't been in a very long time. Her nails raked against his shoulders lightly now, the electric trail she was leaving on his skin almost torture.

She broke away slowly, breathlessly, and he knew if he didn't back away now he might not be able to at all.

He pulled away, letting her go and she blinked, confused for a moment as she loosened her hold on him as well. But then he saw the understanding dawning slowly in her eyes before the embarrassment that suffused her. He hated himself for being the cause.

"Six…"

"I'm sorry," she began automatically, looking down. "I shouldn't have done that. Just chalk it up to a shitty day, yeah?" She sounded a bit desperate.

He frowned, not sure what he was expecting. "Hey, look at me."

She did and he was surprised. Her expression had shuttered up, her eyes clear. She swallowed and took a breath. It was shaky, he could hear it but she let it out slowly, making an attempt at a smile. "I don't want things to get weird between us," she said with a shrug, more calmly this time.

He felt like there was a weight in his stomach, as if lead was sitting heavily there, pulling him down. He wasn't sure he knew how to deal with what was happening between them. All he knew was that he needed to box this away, the territory becoming a minefield.

He didn't stop her yet again as she left him, closing her bedroom door firmly behind her.

 

* * *

 

Six was surprised she didn't melt through the carpeted floor as the humiliation burned through her. She walked over to her bed and tipped into it, face down. He had just given her a few nice words, wonderful words, yes, but she had lost her head and assaulted him.

It had been such a _good_ kiss, too.

At that thought, she felt something akin to heartbreak, her chest constricting once again as she let out a groan. Now she remembered why they hadn't done that before…

Even with her face buried, she closed her eyes, tears threatening again. Knowing his head wasn't in the right place she had kissed him; what a selfish, thoughtless thing to do. She cared for him, she couldn't deny that. So that meant she needed to stop showing it in this manner; she couldn't be another burden on him.

She felt her humiliation turn to shame once again as she sat up and scrubbed at her eyes. She was too high-strung, she finally realized, the day getting to her.

She removed the dress and holsters, leaving the Platinum Chip next to the knife she usually kept on the nightstand. The pip-boy sitting on the surface returned to its place on her wrist. She crawled into bed in her underwear before she turned off the light, wishing she had some whiskey to dull the edges within her, feeling too miserable to stay awake and pity herself any longer.

She didn't want to think about why he had reciprocated for a moment there… He had pulled away in the end, rejection on his lips.

 

* * *

 

When Six awoke the next day, she still felt tired. Knowing that she wouldn't be able to sleep again she let herself wake up slowly, blinking in the faint light. The room was facing west so she wasn't sure what time it was when she woke up most days if she didn't glance at her pip-boy. It would be easy to remain here while the day slowly brightened as it passed her by. The windows were covered in threadbare curtains that didn't do much to keep the light out when the sun was setting.

Her dreams had been heavy with conflict and she woke up with a name on the tip of her tongue _._ She knew her conversation with Benny was behind this new tidbit. She was responsible for many lives, if what Benny had told her was true - possibly a whole tribe. Certainly someone she had known specifically from that tribe.

But just like that, it was gone. Frustrating her all the more.

She wanted to groan and bury her head in her pillows, allow herself to wallow in her guilt and misery. Instead she let out a quiet sigh, knowing that she needed to figure out what she was going to do, coming to a slow realization.

Her talk with Benny had made her realize that she was making a mistake by giving too much of herself away. It was something she was guilty of before her memories had been scattered to the wind, an honesty she needed to curb. She usually let herself just be around Boone because she was with him and ED-E at all times nowadays. But she would have to keep a careful check on herself around him. She refused to be something else he had to deal with, only hoping things remained the way they were before last night. They made a good team out in the wasteland. She couldn't be as close as she'd like to be but she didn't want to lose him altogether, either.

But Benny had used her weaknesses against her, her lapse in judgement with him coming to bite her later. She couldn't let this happen again. Not when so much more was at stake now. She needed to learn to rein herself in, to not let her emotions dictate or give her away anymore.

She picked up the Chip, studying it with a small frown. There were so many people she needed to speak to: the tribes on the Strip, the Boomers, the Brotherhood, the Kings and the Followers. Suddenly remembering, she got up hurriedly and searched through the dress, finally pulling free the necklace with the Mark of Caesar dangling from it.

Her thoughts wandered to what else Benny had told her about her meddling. Apprehension seized her as she questioned herself and what she was doing getting involved in this war to the degree she was in already. How deep was she willing to go? The war was coming - there was no denying that. The people of the Mojave were already suffering as it was and things were only going to get worse if no one did anything.

As had become obvious the more she and Boone and ED-E helped. When no one did anything, people fell through the cracks. Live were lost or destroyed. She couldn't _not_ do anything.

Biting her lip, she knew she needed to plan this carefully. She needed to build her allies but she also needed to exploit some opportunities she had been afforded. She needed to know all the pieces involved.

Deciding wallowing was definitely not part of her day, she wrapped the chip and necklace in a light scarf she had found to replace her bandana. She placed them in her satchel, all the way in the bottom where she wouldn't disturb them easily. Then she dressed and brushed out her hair before braiding it again, finding some comfort in that and the pip-boy back on her wrist again.

She nearly tripped on the heels when she opened the door of her room to walk out.

The sight of them brought the night before back in breathtaking detail and she swayed with the loss momentarily. But she swallowed it down as she looked at the shoes suspiciously. They were lined up a foot in front of her door, as if someone had picked them up after she had dropped them yesterday and placed them there.

She wondered where Boone was.

She threw the shoes in her room, not caring where they landed and went to wash up in the bathroom. She hoped she never needed to wear them again, if she was honest. She was just sorry about the state the dress was in, but it was passable until Six could find a replacement for it.

Once she was ready, she walked into the dining area, finding Boone lingering there with a cigarette and an ashtray, a cup of coffee sitting forgotten in front of him. ED-E beeped in greeting at her entrance, calling Boone’s  attention to her.

She didn't move her eyes from him, trying to act normal. "Morning."

"Hey," he said, nodding at her.

She headed to the kettle to prepare a cup as well, knowing the real test was still forthcoming. His eyes remained on her, lingering more than they used to but that could just be a hyper-sensitivity she had grown towards him after last night. She didn't look at him this time as she spoke, focusing on measuring the coffee from the dented tin to her chipped mug before she poured the water in. "I'm gonna talk to Yes Man again and then head to the Old Mormon Fort to see Arcade. Do you want to come with me?"

"... I've got your back."

She allowed herself the small sigh of relief, her back still to him. They would be ok, she hoped.

 

* * *

 

She marked all the locations on her pip-boy, everyone Yes Man suggested she talk to. House had given her a general idea of what she needed to do but no parameters or time frame, so she knew she was the master of her own destiny again. At least, for the time being. Her mind continued to swim with all the thoughts in it, all the options...

When she arrived at the Old Mormon Fort, she immediately headed towards Arcade, not letting herself get distracted. She found him in a tent all the way in the back, near the supply crates. He was bent over a book, a frown on his face, pulling at his lip as his eyes traveled over the tome in thought.

"Arcade."

He jumped, his eyes going from her to ED-E before he glared at both of them in annoyance. "Did no one ever tell you it's rude to sneak up on people?"

But she smiled, dismissing his annoyance. "Care to take a walk, doctor?"

His frown took in all three of them this time but he seemed to understand it was important because he nodded as he stood up. He stretched and winced as his back cracked. "I can take a break, sure."

They headed out of the Fort, walking the broken streets of Freeside. She asked him about the settlement, about his opinions on its survival and what the people needed most urgently in the Mojave. He frowned in confusion, deflecting at first, telling her she would be better off speaking to Julie Farkas. But Six shook her head, her gaze serious on his.

"I want your opinion, Arcade. You're the one I know."

His brows raised at this, in suspicion because she was sure he had caught on that she wasn't telling him something. But she wasn't ready yet, not willing to reveal all her cards.

He told her his opinion, sharing where they needed help currently. She marked those places in her pip-boy as well, and as he watched her, he seemed to come to a decision, his tone still a bit hesitant.

"... If you're going to help them out, I should go with you if the offer still stands. I might as well do something useful."

Immensely pleased, she accepted his help. She told him to head to the Lucky 38 once he was ready, letting him know her plans were still not finalized.

He looked at her in complete surprise at that, his eyebrows nearly disappearing into his hair this time. " _You're_ the one that people have been talking about? The mysterious woman House let in?"

"In the flesh," she quipped, studying him for further reaction. He regarded her carefully, his arms crossed and she did the same, cataloging what she observed. But nothing stood out, nothing that alarmed her.

She glanced at Boone and saw that he seemed accepting as well, giving her an almost imperceptible nod. Her eyes remained on his too long, she knew this, so she finally tore them away, nodding at Arcade in goodbye before she turned and headed back to the Lucky 38.

It was still too new, still too raw.

She brought out maps when she returned to the suite, all that she could find and asked Boone his opinion on the best routes to take from one place to the next. She remembered some routes but knew that they still needed to avoid the 15 heading to Goodsprings due to the Deathclaws there. Looking at the map, she realized how many places they needed to go to, how many roads they'd need to travel to meet their objectives.

Boone was drawing the quickest route he knew to the Mojave Outpost as she studied him unabashed while his attention was on the map in front of him. She took in the steadiness of his voice, his serious expression. He had become a grounding presence in their brief time together. A sinking sensation filled her as she thought of what she would have to do, knowing it was for the best at the moment.

She looked down at the map once again as she felt the ache spread in her. She was going to miss him.

 

* * *

 

She decided she needed to get well and thoroughly drunk that night, after their planning was put aside for the evening. She just needed to explain the plan to her group before she was free to chug whatever she wanted until she knew no more.

With that in mind, she waited in the cocktail lounge, the radio playing in the background as she sipped her drink slowly and contemplated her life as it was now. She was sitting in one of the booths, the map spread before her on the table but her gaze out on the Strip. The sun was setting in a blaze of orange and red and purple. Near her, ED-E beeped, repeating his percentages once again, even though she had them memorized already.

The chances were better, ED-E affirmed and Boone would have to understand that when she talked to them all.

He joined her not too long after, getting a drink which he sipped slowly, happy to leave the silence between them after he planted himself on the seat across from her. Or so she thought.

"There's a lot of ground to cover." The observation was quiet, not a question, not a press for anything. So she merely nodded, taking another swallow of her drink as she continued staring out at the movement and life of the Strip.

But she needed something from him before she told him her plan, before they parted. Before they separated for the first time in months. She took another sip of her drink, steeling herself but asking him in a steady voice, "What were you hoping your baby would be, Craig? A boy or a girl?"

He froze, she noticed it before she turned to him fully. He looked pained and she felt a moment of remorse as she waited. But then his expression cleared as he thought about it, a small bit of who he had been bleeding through, of a man who once contemplated having a family. "I wanted a girl," he murmured, setting his drink aside carefully.

She would use this, this thought of him, she knew. She would take it with her, knowing a part of her would wonder what kind of father he might have been, the thought making her content for some reason. Maybe it was that a part of her saw how he could someday find happiness again, given enough chance to heal. He had been happy once before.

She took a gulp of her liquor instead of a sip this time, her mind distracted with thoughts of what could be.

Arcade joined them, leaving the guest room he had disappeared into to drop off his pack, putting his Plasma Defender away. He edged around ED-E still she noticed curiously, so she guessed she had chosen well when she decided he needed to accompany Boone. She couldn’t take either of them on the journey she was planning.

He sat down beside Boone, shaking his head when she offered him a drink. "No, let me hear what you have to say first. I'll decide if I need a drink after that."

She smirked at him, his snark being the kick in the pants she needed. She gestured to the map, pointing out the locations she had marked.

"We have a big mission ahead of us. I want to hit these areas, as quickly as we possibly can. Times are starting to get desperate as each week goes by, so this is what I'm thinking: the task at hand is to broker some alliances and you can both help with that." She looked at them each, gauging. "I need you both to head to the Mojave Outpost. Boone, I need you to get Cass; she'll remember you and she owes us a favor. Let her know it's time to collect. Let her know it's urgent." He was frowning, but he didn't say anything and she looked away from him quickly, turning her attention to Arcade. "Arcade, I need you to go with him. I need you both to stop at HELIOS One on the way. You need to reach the Follower's contact and fix the problem there, get that place running again and power where it’s needed. The people need that and you have to remember, give it to the ones who need it the most," she told them, the order quiet but firm.

Boone looked as if he was about to protest, but she shook her head and spoke before he did. "I'll feel better if I know you're both together, Craig. You'll be needed at each destination. I'll have ED-E with me and our journey's going to be closer. My trip could take longer, since I know it's going to be hard to get into the Brotherhood's Bunker to begin with, let alone get an audience with their Elder," she confessed, but she kept her gaze steady. Knowing she would have to head to Fortification Hill without them, she needed the shorter journey.

"Do you even know where their Bunker is?" Arcade asked plaintively.

She shook her head, pointing at the map between Black Mountain and the NCR Correctional Facility. "It's supposed to be around here so that's where I'm heading."

She looked at both of them again, each in turn. "We'll head out the day after tomorrow, once we're done restocking and we'll meet back here when we're done. Just keep to the roads, the ones you know Boone."

He continued watching her, saying nothing. Arcade looked warily at both of them as she attempted to ignore both, rolling up the maps and standing to put them away. She placed them near the elevator, in their cylinder containers before heading to the bar again and bringing out the bottle of the good vodka she had found there. Grabbing shot glasses, she returned to pour them one each, raising the glass up, eyes bright with determination.

"What are we toasting to?" Arcade wondered, his tone a bit amused.

She gave him a sure smile, "To the beginning of a beautiful friendship?"

He let out a small laugh, shrugging before taking the shot. She took hers next, turning to Boone after she swallowed it. He set his empty shot glass down, nodding at her, his expression looking a bit resigned. But he continued watching her steadily, she could feel it constantly when he thought she wasn't looking. He wasn't going to like the separation any more than she was, she realized.

She poured herself another shot and took it quickly, welcoming the burn as it went down.

 

* * *

 

She was pretty tipsy by the time Arcade begged off to go to sleep. He was hammered, slurring a little already when he disappeared into the elevator. ED-E floated away with him and he surprisingly didn't mind, leaning onto him a little as the elevator doors slid shut.

She giggled at the sight, sunk into the booth to the point she was almost lying down, her legs stretched out before her. Her boots were on the table and she was careful not to knock over any of the empty bottles that littered the surface as she sipped water slowly, knowing she was still too drunk to go to sleep. She was fighting to keep herself awake but it was a losing battle, she knew.

Boone watched her silently and she met his gaze, too tired to try to hide from it anymore.

"What's on your mind, Craig?" she finally offered, her tone quiet. He hadn't been drinking much, preferring to smoke and she wished she had a cigarette right now as well.

"It's going to be hard not to worry," he finally admitted. She almost laughed, the understanding palpable between them.

"I know," she nodded, swallowing as she admitted it as well.

He stood up and sank down on the seat next to her, not touching her as she turned to look at him.

"Promise me you'll be careful out there," he said and she nodded tightly, clearing her throat before speaking.

"I will be. I need you to do the same though, I need you to be careful, let Arcade watch your back."

"It's not the same," Boone began, but she cut him off.

"I know. But I'm not leaving permanently. We're just needed in separate places right now. Let him help you while I'm not there." She wanted to push, to remind Boone that Arcade was a doctor as well, that he had learned about both physical and emotional trauma. It might not be his strongest talent, but she had faith in Arcade. It was in Boone's hands anyway, if he wanted to talk to anyone, it wasn't something she could decide for him. Exposure to someone of Arcade's expertise was all she could offer right now.

She sat up, finishing her water before standing. Boone rose with her and they walked to the elevator, reaching the suite in silence. The ding of the elevator opening sounded loud among the quiet snoring that was coming out of the guest bedroom where Arcade had already passed out.

Boone scowled as he heard what awaited him and she chuckled at his expression. His face cleared as he looked at her, however, and she allowed herself to reach out for his hand and squeeze it once. But she didn't move past that, just focusing on trying to pass some of her confidence in their separation onto him. To help him understand it was probably best for them at the moment.

They could all survive this, she was sure.

"We'll make the Mojave a better place for your future children, Craig. I promise you." And she gave his hand another squeeze, entwining their fingers briefly before she let go, stepping back. She gave him one last long look before she turned towards her room to find what rest she could before she left the New Vegas Strip behind her.

 

* * *

 

END OF PART I

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I appreciate the feedback in all its forms: the reviews, the kudos, the subscriptions and bookmarks. You guys are amazing and I am so very grateful. Thanks for staying with me. :)
> 
> Now for the credit where credit is due:
> 
> 'No Place for No Hero' - story title inspired by 'Short Change Hero' by The Heavy
> 
> Juniper's name is actually the name of a friend's daughter. I'm sure he and his daughter would appreciate the use if they were aware.
> 
> Individual chapter titles were all lyrics from various songs from the Fallout soundtracks. I tried to keep them all as New Vegas songs, but 'Through the Rain of Strontium 90' was from Fallout 4 so… Songs used:
> 
> 'Jingle Jangle Jingle' by Gene Autry
> 
> 'Way Back Home' by Bob Crosby
> 
> 'Johnny Guitar' by Peggy Lee
> 
> 'Heartaches by the Number' by Guy Mitchell
> 
> 'Crawl Out Through the Fallout' by Sheldon Allman
> 
> 'Love Me As Though There Were No Tomorrow' by Nat King Cole
> 
> 'Big Iron' by Marty Robbins
> 
> 'Happy Times' by Bob Crosby


	11. Epilogue: Look for the Gold in the Rainbow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello awesome readers. Felt I needed to write this after reading a bunch of angst recently. Delicious angst, of course but angst nonetheless. I needed some fluff.
> 
> It’s in a different POV from the rest of the story, but I hope you still enjoy reading.

Although he wanted to remain in denial due to the embarrassment involved, Arcade finally had to admit he was nursing a pretty bitching hangover the next morning.

He awoke with a monumental headache and felt some remorse at his situation, wondering what had possessed him. He was a doctor in his mid-thirties, after all. But he couldn’t remember the last time he’d suffered through a hangover after a night of hedonistic drinking, if he was being honest with himself. And a part of him figured it was high time it happened again if that were the case. His life had become tedious to the point of being dull in the last few years, he could freely admit.

Besides, Julie and his colleagues might be relieved if they were to see him in this state, proving he was just human after all.

_The things we tell ourselves for peace of mind…_

Arcade soon found his thirst and headache were more important than his wounded pride. With a defeated sigh, he came to terms with it ( _whether positive or negative, there was no going back_ ) and opened his eyes slowly. The guest room was empty, neither Boone or ED-E anywhere in sight and it was the only reason he allowed the groan that escaped as he pulled himself out of bed.

Massaging his temple with one hand, Arcade drained the bottled water he’d found on the nightstand as he made his way out of the guest room towards the kitchen area. He needed coffee and he remembered the courier had shown him where it was the day before.

He needn’t have bothered looking for it, however, a kettle of boiling water already sitting on the hot plate along with a tin of coffee and several mugs on the counter next to it. The remains of two drained mugs were near the wash area, Six and Boone apparently already up.

He tossed the empty water bottle into the trash, missed spectacularly and grumbled at it but he didn't have the energy or inclination to go pick it up. Instead he prepared himself a cup of coffee, taking an eager but careful sip and letting out a quiet breath of contentment at the first burning taste. He padded over to the table slowly, still in his socks. A few magazines littered the table’s surface where Six left them along with her notes, some pencil sketches and a few diagrams on loose sheets of paper.

He had just slumped into an empty chair and set his aching head down with a soft thump when he heard the jarring and distinctive sound of a body hitting the floor from across the hall. The sound was followed by a string of expletives, all clearly coming from the courier.

Sighing tiredly into the table’s wooden surface, he wondered if he should go investigate, a part of him a little weary at the thought of being forced to move so soon. He waited, wondering idly if she was in trouble. After a few moments he told himself she wasn’t as no further sound came from that direction.

He lifted his head briefly and took another careful sip, thanking the blessed silence. The coffee certainly wasn’t anything gourmet but beggars couldn’t be choosers…

The sound came again, a body connecting with another hard surface but this time it was followed by a crash of crockery and then, “Fuuuuuck! Boone, you made me break the lamp!”

With a sigh, he knew he’d have to interfere now. Abusive relationships were the worst and they could be found where you least suspected them. As was the case here, it seemed. He had seen them together, would never have suspected anything of the sort but that was exactly the point; one never knew from appearances alone.

He took one last careful gulp before he set his coffee cup down mournfully and approached the game room.

The pool table had been pushed against the wall and the broken shards of a lamp were being swept to the side by the courier as Boone watched. The sniper's breathing was a little labored and he was in the process of putting a cigarette between his lips, his sunglasses off. He was in a green t-shirt and a pair of loose fitting pants, his head and feet bare. Arcade tried not to stare too much but it was the first time he'd seen him without the sunglasses and beret on. It was a little jarring. He shouldn't have worried that his stare would be noticed, he realized quickly, Boone's frown on the courier as he lit the cigarette and took a quick drag.

Arcade finally found his voice, letting out a careful drawl. “Everyone okay in here?”

Six looked up from where she was collecting the shards on her jacket, giving him a small frown. She looked frustrated, too, he noticed and she was also dressed down in an undershirt and a pair of cargo pants. The material was clinging and bare in the midriff area. Her hair was pulled up in a messy bun on top of her head, not in a braid for once and she was sweating. She had her fingerless gloves on as well, he observed, about to warn her of the danger of picking up the broken pieces with her hands.

“We're fine,” Boone grunted in response, going over to the courier and squatting down next to her to take over her task. “Get going on the exercises,” he muttered, cigarette smoking between his lips. “You screwed up twice because you’re not paying attention. Focus.”

This was clearly something different than what he’d assumed.

The frown on the courier’s face deepened, but she stood and headed towards the clear floor to slowly drop into push-up position before she began counting. Boone walked her jacket full of shards out of the room towards the kitchen trashcan without a look back.

Arcade blinked in confusion as the courier continued doing push-ups on the floor, wondering absently if this was why she didn’t braid her hair. It would definitely get in the way.

“So... you’re all right, then?” he tried once again.

“I’m fucking up, but were ‘ _fine_ ’, like Boone said,” she muttered, her tone tight. He wondered if the tone was because she was answering him mid push-up or because of the tension he could feel coming off her even from her position on the floor.

“…O-kay…”

She continued her work in silence, no further response coming from her mouth.

Rubbing a hand over his tired face, he turned and left the madness behind him for the company of his abandoned cup of coffee.

 

* * *

 

Arcade wondered what he had gotten himself into when he offered to join the courier on her one-woman mission to solve the ills plaguing the Mojave. Lounging in the bath, he almost snorted, it seemed so delusional.

Although it wasn’t a one-woman show anymore, he mused. He was part of this now, after all. And it wasn't like the courier had been alone any of the times he had seen her, always trailed by the sniper and the eyebot. Even now.

They had left earlier, Six with Boone following right behind, after they had cleaned up and the game room was put back together. Arcade had opted to stay behind, not wanting to be anywhere near sunlight and ED-E needed to reboot for a while, going to sleep mode on the couch in the guest bedroom, his usual spot.

He wasn’t entirely sure what the relationship between his two other companions was. He could guess if he wanted to but that was all it would be in the end; a guess. There was something there, he could sense it but it wasn’t clear cut enough for him to be certain.

He didn’t want to think about the eyebot too much, though. There were a lot of memories involved with something so clearly Enclave... Instead, he pondered his decision again as he thought about leaving New Vegas and Freeside behind tomorrow to journey as the courier had tasked.

She had bid him to join her after they’d first met and he had refused then, easily. But the opportunity she offered had caught his attention, stewing in his mind for days after. His research hadn’t amounted to much, something he'd been aware of for months already. What was worse, however, was the deep sense of dissatisfaction that had slowly gotten hold of him. He was in desperate need to pull himself out of that, knowing that he couldn’t let it remain and cloud his work or the need to help others.

She had offered him an out. And he hadn’t taken the decision lightly. He witnessed the result of some of her work in the time since their first meeting. She had gotten rid of that lowly waste of a human-being Dixon and gotten the worst of his victims into rehab at the Old Mormon Fort. She had convinced Julie to trade with James Garret at the Atomic Wrangler, their deal mutually beneficial.

What finally got him to start considering her offer seriously was the Weathers family that had just left the Fort a few days ago. They had arrived a few weeks before, all three suffering from days of near starvation and dehydration. The youngest was suffering from heatstroke as well and they had required many days of recovery.

When Arcade later heard they had escaped Legion captivity, his curiosity had been piqued. Any story that ended with an escape from Legion capture was rare and he wanted to find out how they had managed it while retaining the majority of their bodies intact. But he couldn’t ask directly, even he knew that, bad bedside manner notwithstanding.

It wasn’t until one day when Six had come by to dump some more supplies for them that it all became clear.  He had spoken to her briefly, of what he couldn’t remember. But Kenny had seen him and approached him about it later and asked if the doctor knew her. Arcade affirmed that he did and that’s when Kenny told him how they had escaped a life of Legion slavery, of her involvement in their escape.

“She got us out of Cottonwood Cove. She bought our freedom, walked in there and got us to walk out.”

“Six?”

Kenny nodded, his face serious.

And that’s what had finally convinced him. She didn’t just help the Followers. He heard the rumors that she helped the NCR, too. But it was the knowledge that she had also helped this family escape a brutal future, with no caps or reputation or acknowledgement as a motivating factor. She hadn’t been lying to him when she told him she wanted to make a difference. She already was.

Kenny had handed him a letter, Arcade suddenly remembered with a start, bathwater sloshing as he sat up suddenly.

He also realized he had dozed off, the water in the bath now cold. But he felt better, the light not bothering him as much now and the tension drained from his upper back.

The pressure weighing on him over whether he had made the right decision was slowly easing, he realized with a small smile.

 

* * *

 

His headache was gone by lunchtime and it was around that time when the elevator dinged announcing the return of the courier and Boone from their trip to restock ammo. Arcade didn’t look up from his meal of Blamco mac-n-cheese but their conversation reached him at the kitchen table before they did, following them from the elevator to her bedroom.

“It’s something that needs to get done.” Boone sounded matter-of-fact, Arcade noted.

“Like cleaning your rifle you mean?” There was a note of skepticism in her voice and the sound of heavy bags being dropped on the floor reached his ears.

Boone’s answer was too low for Arcade to hear, but it sounded like agreement.

“Can I be really honest with you and tell you you’re being scary right now?”

Not bothering to mask his interest, Arcade leaned back in his chair to better hear them, slowing his chewing. He wondered if they would shut the door behind them or if they were even aware he was listening.

“You have to look at this differently.”

“You just offered to kill someone for me,” she deadpanned.

He swallowed the bite he had in his mouth in surprise, not chewing and thankfully not choking on it. With a frown, he wondered what kind of people the courier worked with. He knew enough about her but he realized he knew next to nothing about her companions. The eyebot was already in question, but he hadn’t bothered to think much about the sniper, seeing his NCR affiliations a mile away with that red beret.

Could he really feel comfortable travelling with a cold-blooded killer as the courier wanted him to? He thought about this as he continued listening.

“He needs to be put down or he’ll become a threat again,” was the sniper’s explanation.

“I doubt he’ll try anything again, Craig.”

“He shot you in the head point-blank already. He’s got an inflated sense of importance, he stole from one of the most connected men on the Strip. You don’t even know what his men are doing with him since you left him there.”

 _Ah, it was_ that _guy…_

“Craig, we had this conversation already.” The tone in the courier’s voice was wary. He could hear it.

After a long moment, they both walked into the kitchen and joined Arcade for lunch, not speaking further and making what remained of his meal really difficult to finish.

Feeling the need to lighten the mood, Arcade reached into the pocket of his lab coat and pulled out the letter, pushing it across the table towards Six.

Confused, she looked up from pushing the food around in her plate, not helping it look any more appetizing.

“I forgot that Kenny Weathers asked me to give this to you,” he clarified.

“Kenny Weathers?” She sat up, her expression clearing. “Where did you--?”

"The Mormon Fort. They arrived a few weeks ago, all of them safe. They just left not too long ago, heading for Goodsprings they mentioned." He knew that would make her happy and it did. He was rewarded with the huge smile that split her face and she wasted no time in opening the envelope.

He finished the last of his lunch slowly as he watched her read, her smile softening the further down the page she got. When she was done, she swallowed audibly and folded the letter back up to tuck it away in the envelope, turning to her food once again.

Silence reigned for a moment and he didn't glance up until he had finished with his plate. And that's when he saw it.

She had begun crying into her lunch silently, he noticed with some chagrin, feeling embarrassed for her. But he also felt his heart softening, a need to do something nagging at him.

He was glad when the sniper reached out and placed a supportive hand on her back. But it was brief because she wiped her face with her napkin and walked away from the kitchen shortly after.

Neither of them followed and Arcade could only assume she probably felt mortified.

 

* * *

 

He didn't see her again until dinner and didn't have a chance to speak to her until they were in the cocktail lounge, nearing the end of the evening to have an after dinner drink. Or three, in the courier’s case.

She was in a better mood by then. Quieter, sure, but more talkative compared to the whole day so far. All their bags were packed, their weapons cleaned and in prime condition. Six had written a letter for the Weathers and had also written one addressed to Doc Mitchell, Trudy and Sunny in Goodsprings. Receiving one from Kenny had inspired her to reach out to the people she still thought about in the settlement she had woken up in.

“I guess Goodsprings is home away from home,” she mused beside him, a whiskey in hand once again.

He steered clear of the alcohol himself, knowing he didn’t have her stamina. She drank like this and still woke up to wrestle a retired NCR sniper the next morning followed by push-ups and whatever else that morning routine of hers consisted of. No, he couldn’t drink like that anymore.

But he enjoyed their conversation, their talk turning towards their thoughts on how they fit or didn’t fit in the ‘grand scheme of things’. The fact that neither one of them was content with sitting back and watching was all they were really sure of in the end.

When he knew he couldn't hold it anymore, he excused himself to find a restroom. The cocktail lounge didn’t house a working one, surprisingly. He briefly contemplated going to bed after that, just leaving them for the evening. But the question was still bothering him about them and whatever it was they were. He knew that if he didn't find out now before they split up tomorrow then he'd have no luck getting an answer out of the sniper.

He cursed his nosiness but succumbed, feeding the beast instead.

The ding of the elevator must have alerted them of his return, but if they heard it they didn't let on. He tiptoed over, most of the lights off, the only ones remaining on were near the bar and the ones coming in from the Strip below.

He stopped near the opening from the elevator and looked at the booth below where they still were. Boone was sitting up and smoking a cigarette, his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle on the table in front of him. Next to him was the courier, stretched out against him, her own legs on the table but her face in his neck, dead asleep. There was a soft exhale as Boone blew some smoke out and the music from her pip-boy was the only sound, a melancholy background to the atmosphere that had taken over the cocktail lounge in his brief absence.

Arcade finally cleared his throat.

“Is she out?” he wondered, starting to feel like a weirdo for just standing there watching them silently.

“Yep.”

“Hmm… Need any help carrying her down?” He wasn’t sure what made him ask that. He had no desire to do it whatsoever, feeling particularly lethargic.

“Nope.”

"Well, good night then." And he turned and left before he could wonder about it anymore.

 

* * *

 

The fact that the sniper wasn’t in the room when Arcade's alarm went off before dawn the next morning was the answer he was looking for, he supposed.

When the door opened ten minutes later and Boone walked in, Arcade couldn’t help himself.

“Said your goodbyes?” he asked, voice glib, not really expecting an answer. He had been about ready to go wake him and potentially embarrass them all and was glad that it hadn’t gotten to that.

But Boone shook his head, confusing Arcade even further. “It’s better if we don’t. Let’s just go,” he said quietly, grabbing his own gear and changing in the muted darkness of the room.

“You didn’t wake her up?” He knew his disbelief was evident.

“Couldn’t do it.”

“So you’re _not_ together?”

“No.” The response was not pleasant, a warning note there.

“But you spent the night with her?”

“Yes.” It was getting worse, Arcade noticed it.

He pressed on, nonetheless. “But no sex?”

Dead silence but the look on Boone’s face said it all. There was _no way_ the man in front of him had just gotten laid.

“And nothing else has happened between you? You’ve never kissed her?”

The sniper’s face gave him away again and Arcade marveled at that, inexplicably tickled at this new revelation. “Well well well…”

“Can it, doc. We’ve got miles to travel so let’s go.”

Arcade left it at that, knowing their journey would be unpleasant otherwise.

But he felt he wasn’t completely confused anymore; at least, not as badly as Boone apparently was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part II will follow. Keep an eye out. :)


End file.
